


Pandora

by citizenblue



Series: Tales from the Elseworld [1]
Category: Arrow (TV 2012), DC Elseworlds, DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV), DCU (Comics), Justice League - All Media Types, The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon, F/F, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-21
Updated: 2016-04-04
Packaged: 2018-05-28 03:09:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 24
Words: 45,873
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6312961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/citizenblue/pseuds/citizenblue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Across universes and across time, some things are inevitable. The details may change, but the strand from which everything originates will remain unchanged. A bolt of lightning cracks through the Amazo and Sara watches, helpless, as the ocean sweeps Oliver away...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Secret Origins

**Author's Note:**

> So, I'm amending my little intro because this story, which was originally meant to be a lot less ambitious, kind of morphed into something more. In short, it ended up turning into my love-story to the DCU. I'll admit that as a kid, I liked Marvel, mostly because I loved the 90s X-Men cartoon. But when push comes to shove, my heart always lied with DC. Hell, my first comics were Superman and JLA and I ate that shit up. While it's cool that the Marvel always seemed to be one step ahead in tackling social issues, the DCU (on the other hand) always seemed to offer something a little more pure. Escapism. Despite the more out-of-this-world qualities of the DCU, it always felt more human. After all, I didn't stick around for Superman or the Flash. I stuck around for Clark and Wally. Bruce, Dick, Tim, and even Jason (I swear I didn't vote for his death). DC live action had a little bit of a rough start, but I'm happy to see it thrive now. Could things be better? Always. But it's fun, and that's what matters.
> 
> This is the first of a series of Elseworld-esque works that I have swirling around in my headspace. I'll also be posting short tie-in vignettes between chapters They won't necessarily be related to the overall arc, but they'll color in my little end of the multiverse.

 It started with a flash of lightning that rippled through the air.

The bolt shivered as it ripped through the ship, curling through the hull. A single spark. A breach in the tank. The inferno consumed the Amazo, and Sara watched, eyes wide open, as the ship twisted and tipped and _screamed_ in her ears. She watched, too, as an errant wave wrapped itself around Oliver Queen's leg. She watched as he scraped his nails against the deck - a fruitless endeavor. The water swirled down over his face and swallowed him whole, and the tide continued to lick at the empty space, as though the ocean yearned for another taste. Slade Wilson laughed and his chest bled as it pressed against the fallen chunks of the disemboweled ship. His head lolled, heavy with the Mirakuru drug.

Sara stood over him. She held the cure in one hand. A torn piece of rebar in the other.

"What are you going to do, girl?" Blood colored his chin. "It doesn't matter. Nothing will change what you are. A pretty girl surviving only through the strength of others. _You_ were supposed to die. _You_ , not _her_."

Sara waded through the water toward Slade, cold against her ankles. She licked her lips, running her tongue over the thick coating of dry salt.

"Oliver was only the first. I will kill everyone he loves, and I will _torture_ everyone _you_ love."

The vial shattered in her palm.

"You don't deserve to live." His spittle tightened around his words. His voice scraped against the insides of his throat. "You were supposed to die. Why didn't you die?"

The rebar ripped through his eye.

Her hand, raw and chafed, gripped the steel, and she twisted, tearing brain matter, tissue, and muscle. Slade Wilson's head rolled back into the water, and as the ship shook and rumbled, she let the water take her, too. The ocean was cold and soft against her skin. Comforting, almost. She closed her eyes, relieved.

But when Sara woke and opened her eyes, the softness and dissipated, and the sands of Lian Yu were sharp against her cheek.

* * *

 

PRESENT DAY

 _ **FLASH FACT:**_ According to the laws of thermodynamics, all particles of matter are in constant random motion as long as the temperature is above absolute zero. The molecules and atoms which make up the human body are constantly vibrating, colliding, and moving. Constant imperceptibile motions.

Barry blinks as he lifts his head, and he peels the discarded candy wrapper from his cheek. He jumps at the sound of a coffee mug slamming down on the desk beside his hand. A drop of coffee splashes up against his cheek.

"Pull an all-nighter last night?" The voice startles him, too. "I brought you coffee. I even put it in your favorite mug."

"Eddie?"

The detective smiled as he leans back on the desk. "Don't act so surprised. We do, you know, work together."

"You're really here."

"Of course, I am. You're supposed to have the file on the Scudder case for me."

"Scudder?"

"You know." Eddie waves his hand. "The guy with the mirrors."

"I don't--"

"Are you feeling alright?" he says. "I know it's been rough around here for the past year, but you are allowed to take an extended break. We wouldn't get very far if we lost our only CSI." Eddie reaches around Barry, grabbing a folder off the desk. "Is this it? There it is. Sam Scudder. This is going to be a huge help, Barry."

"D-does Iris know you're here?"

"Who's Iris?"

Someone's hand - Barry cann't remember whose - knocked the mug over, and it falls to the ground and shattered. Barry swallows, attempting to unstick the walls of his throat.

Eddie pulls a wad of crumpled napkins out of his pocket. "Aw. You _loved_ that mug."

* * *

 

Sara ran. Sprinted. Jumped. Leapt over bazaar stalls. She couldn't remember the last time she had seen this many  _people_ in _one_ place at _one_ time. She could almost feel him. The man in the suit. The one chasing her. Just keep running. Don't stop. Never stop. Not now. Not after everything.

The buzz of civilization tickled her skin and the little hairs on her arms stood on end.

A cafe.

She stumbled as she pushed a man out of the chair, ripping him away from the old computer. She ignored him as he swore in Cantonese.

What was her password? _What the fuck was her password?_

Sara let the muscle memory kick in, and her fingers flew across the keyboard as though the last time she had touched a computer had been only the day prior. She picked out Laurel's email address. Laurel. Her sister. A few keystrokes away. A few words and a click:

Hong Kong.

I'm in Hong Kong.

Help me. Please.

She didn't flinch at the sound of the gunshot, and she didn't flinch when the bullet plowed through glass and wire either. Bullets kill. And you can't outrun them. And it only takes one. She knew this by now. This was her life now.

"You can't escape," Maseo said. "You must stop."

"I will never stop trying to get home." She yanked herself away from him, reeling back from his touch. "Don't you dare touch me."

"You don't know what Waller is capable of. It would be best if you would just do what you're told."

"Easy for you to say. You're the one getting paid by her," Sara said.

"You misunderstand, Ms. Lance. Waller is a woman of leverage." He holstered his gun. "If you escape, Waller will not only kill you and me. She will kill me wife. And she will kill my son. Please. You must understand."

Maseo dragged her back to the small apartment that had become her prison, and she spent the better half of the day watching as Akio fiddled with a small handheld machine.

"She will kill my son," Maseo had said. "You must understand."

And so when Amanda Waller came for her again, she followed. And when Amanda Waller motioned for her lackies to tie her to the chair, she let them. Waller flipped a switch and the generator beside Sara rumbled to life. From the corner of her eye, she watched as a man grabbed the set of jumper cables.

"You should count yourself lucky," Waller said. "You almost managed to get that email through."

"You have a warped sense of luck."

"What did you think would happen if you succeeded? You've seen what I can do. I could have your family dead by the end of the business day."

"What the hell do you want from me?"

"You were the acquaintance of a Mr. Ivo, were you not?"

"Acquaintance is a loose word."

"Don't get sidetracked. I want to know about the Mirakuru."

"I'll tell you what you want, but it won't do you any good. It doesn't even work. I'm not important, and I'm not useful. Just let me go."

"So? It has potential." The jumper cables snapped with electricity. Waller smiled. "But let me tell you. This is about more than the drug. You're wrong, Ms. Lance. I have a feeling that I'll be able to squeeze a great deal of use out of you."

"What are you talking about?"

"You have skills. The finer details of the Mirakuru drug wasn't the only thing Ivo taught you. He taught you a toolset. A toolset that isn't easily learned. Or stomached." Waller marked Sara's skin with a sharpie. Small neat Xs. As she wrote, she spoke: "Hit these points on the average human body, and you'll be able to cause maximum pain without death."

"You're fucking insane."

"I'm focusing your skills, Sara. Guiding you." She capped the marker. "Shall we begin?"

* * *

 

PRESENT DAY

Barry follows Eddie Thawne out into the bullpen, listening as the radio on Eddie's belt sputters with white noise. The bullpen is empty, manned by only a few detectives. He might have said something, had the news feed playing across the television screen hadn't caught his attention.

Barry furrows his brow. "Mardon."

"Call SWAT." Eddie wrangles the other officers into motion. "We're going to need all hands on deck."

Barry grabs Eddie before he could leave. " _Wait_ ," he said. " _You know_  the police can't handle someone like him. I don't know know what's going on here, but, I can handle this.  _The Flash_  can handle this."

"Who the hell is the Flash?" Eddie says, shaking his head. "Look, I know you're not feeling well, but you need to get out of the way. We don't need our only CSI going down there and getting hurt. We've spent the better part of this year handling situations like this. Go home."

"Eddie!"

Already gone. Fine. Barry bolts the door, spinning his legs as fast as he can, pounding the soles of his feet against the ground, willing the electricity in his veins to spark into motion.

Barry trips. Down the stairs.

He scraps his elbow on the concrete as he skids, tumbling out of the precinct.

S.T.A.R. Labs. Now.

The bus? No. A cab? Maybe. Which way?

"Barry? Are you alright? You're bleeding!"

The woman. Like pie.

"Mom?" He had forgotten what the pie had smelled like. He had actually forgotten, and now that he can practically taste the smell on his tongue once more, he hates himself all the more for it. "Eddie a-and now you... What are you doing here?"

"We were going to get dinner," she says. "Oh. You forgot. That's all right. I know you're busy, Barry. You do very important work, and I would never want to distract--"

He hugs her. Holds her tight.

"Mom," he said. "I could never forget you."

* * *

 

If Sara thought about it, the underbelly of Moscow, despite sitting on an opposite end of the globe, was not all that different than the Glades. Sara pushed the prisoner forward, initiating the hostage exchange with the Tambovskaya goons. Nothing could be heard beyond the footsteps of the two prisoners as they walked towards the center of the abandoned park.

Sara frowned, glancing towards her partner. She could see the Tambovskaya _shestyorkas_ hiding behind the trees. Preparing.

To pounce.

The prisoners passed the center mark.

"Sara," Anatoly said. He whispered to her in low tones: "You are very scary woman."

Blindingly bright. A flash of phosphorous. Heat. Fire. The prisoner exploded as he crossed Tambovskaya lines, and Sara had already become a flurry of unleashed motion, systematically taking out each of the _shestyorkas_ in their moment of confusion. A bullet grazed her arm, drawing blood.

Sara growled as she tossed the last of the Tambovskaya men before Anatoly.

" _You could have told me your plan earlier_ ," she said. Fluent Russian flowed from her mouth.

" _I thought this way was more fun_ ," he said. He dusted off his trousers. " _I don't know why you are complaining. You like your explosions, no?_ "

" _They have their uses._ "

" _You make a face, but if I remember correctly, you were the original mastermind of this plan._ "

At the bar, Anatoly poured two glasses of vodka while Sara stapled together the gash on her arm.

He smirked; " _Your cross collar choke could still use work._ "

" _Always a critic._ "

" _I jest. You've come a long way in two years, Sara. I was surprised you did not return to America immedietely after the island, but I must admit. I'm glad I found you in that shithole in St. Petersburg. You've been quite the student._ " He abandoned the glass altogether for the bottle. " _You are a survivor. Resourceful. Ruthless when necessary. I like that about you._ "

" _I'm glad, too. I'm happy here._ "

" _Nyet. Do not lie to me; you are not._ "

" _I think I know how I feel._ "

" _I like you, Sara. You've been a loyal soldier and a trusted friend to me. But you are still lost. You lack purpose, and I can see clearly that this eats at you. You are not bound to the SoIntesevskaya. You know you are free to follow your own path._ "

" _I'm not going back to Starling._ "

" _I suspected as much. But I have another task for you, if you find it to your liking, of course._ " He growled. " _America is proving to be quite annoying. Various players have begun to make their moves, and I refuse to be left behind._ "

" _Falcone?_ "

" _Among others. Our associates in Hub City have already created a foothold, but I'll need you to take your brigade and go to Blüdhaven. Leonov tires me and I need one of my captains to operate the region._ "

" _I'll get it done_."

"Loosen up, Sara. Drink. Look around. You are among friends."

* * *

 

PRESENT DAY

Caitlin Snow shouts as Cisco stumbles. His head throbs, and so he presses his temple against the cold floor of S.T.A.R. Labs, a weak attempt to alleviate the pain behind his eyes. He can feel Caitlin struggle to lift him up towards the table. He can almost hear her speak, too, but the sound of blood rushing through his head engulfs her words and drowns them.

Something - someone - flashes before his eyes. A man. A stranger. Bewildered. Clumsy. Lost.

"I think something's wrong," he says. He continues to cradle his head in his hands. "Something has changed and it's very very wrong."

* * *

 

The basement beneath Blüdhaven's Warriors Bar & Grill was cavernous. Guy himself had never ventured down. He didn't care to, either; the inventory was kept in a room behind the bar, and he had no desire to constantly make the trek up and down the stairs. Besides. The blond broad paid him to tend bar. And to mind his own business.

The young man glared at Sara from across the table, his lips contorted in the most defiant manner. " _Captain. I must protest. We were only doing what we thought best for the bratva._ "

" _Have I been unclear? I ordered an end to the sex trafficking._ "

" _The sex trafficking has been lucrative, far more lucrative than your foray into pharmaceuticals and organ trade. Leonev created an empire in Hub City. We will not see his work thrown aside as though it were nothing._ "

Leonid stepped forward from his place beside Sara, and his brow twitched. He stilled only when she lifts her palm.

" _Leonev is not the authority. You operated a prostitution ring against my orders, and you acted as rogues beyond the arm and code of the bratva. You killed officers of the law. You did little to avoid collateral damage. You were reckless and you have compromised our greater purpose here in Blüdhaven._ "

" _With all due respect, I do not see why we should be so concerned with the well-being of strangers_."

" _You speak out of turn_." Leonid's voice was calm and deep, echoing through the room. " _You disrespect yourself._ "

" _This American outsider is soft. She does not deserve a place among us. If Knyazev knew of how you operate--_ "

Sara stilled Leonid once more, halting him before he can wrap his fingers around the young man's neck. She remained steady, and with slow steps she made her way around the table.

" _\--If you would like to run off to Anatoly and express your opinion, feel free. You can tell him all the ways you failed to complete the job, and you can tell him how you disobeyed my orders._ " Sara's face stayed stoic, almost plastic, as she whispered into the young man's ear: " _I am the_ Avtoritet _of this brigade. I speak as an authority on the behalf of the Anatoly Knyazev. His word and my word are one and the same._ "

The young man's hand smacked against the concrete ground, and the blood pooled around the disembodied limb, where the flesh had been torn and the bone severed.

Sara sheathed the short blade. " _Deliver Alexi Leonev. If you fail me again, consider yourself dead._ "

The young man retreated, cradling his stump of an arm. Sara cleared her throat, motioning towards Leonid: bring the next moron in. Neither noticed _them_ at first. The men. Clad in black. They descended form the ceiling, each a contained whirlwhind of blades. Sara met the closest by the throat, her taut fingers finding the soft exposed flesh. She extended her bo, a recent gift from Anatoly, and cracked the nubbed ends against hooded skulls, fracturing the bone.

An arrow grazed her cheek, whizzing and snapping as it drew blood. Her assailants stilled.

A woman stepped forth. "I am Nyssa. Daughter of Ra's al Ghul. Heir to the Demon." She pulled down the veil that covered her face. "I've come for the head of Sara Lance."

Leonid held an assassin by the neck, wedged between his bicep and forearm. A single twitch. The bone would snap. Like cheap plywood. The blade was sharp against Sara's neck, and when she swallowed, she could feel the edge scrape her skin. But she could see into Nyssa al Ghul's eyes, too.

A sharp intake of breath.

She's... gorgeous.

Drop dead gorgeous.

Sara steadied her voice. " _Stand down, Leonid._ "

" _But Captain!_ "

" _It's all right. Stand down._ "

Nyssa gave a slight nod to her men, and in a snap, precise and sharp, they receded behind their master, into the shadows. Only one remained. Sara couldn't see his face, not behind the hood and mask. His familiar eyes narrowed as he appraised her.

"You are an impressive woman," Nyssa continued. "Sara Lance. Code name Canary. Shipwrecked off the coast of Lian Yu. Formerly an agent of A.R.G.U.S. A captain of the _Solntsevkaya Bratva_. One of seven. The only woman. And now you have put down three of my assassins. KGB training suits you, Ms. Lance, but it will not save you if my father wishes you dead."

Sara laughed, her face breaking out into a wild smile she could barely contain. Even Leonid twitched, startled at this rare and strange noise that had emerged from his superior. He had become inducted into the bratva two years prior, and he had resented, at first, his assignment to remain at the American recruit's side. But now he was the right and left hand of the Canary. The unwavering shadow.

And he had never heard her laugh.

The daughter of the demon could not help the minuscule twitch that graced the corner of her own lips either.

The smile had still not left Sara's face. "Are you here to flatter me or kill me?"

"I am here as a courtesy. The contract on your head is an old one. It was established years ago, and though the League is not in the business of breaking our contracts, we are neither in the business of unjustly ending a life. You are aware of a Hendrick von Armin?" Nyssa watched as the smile vanished from Sara's face, leaving no trace in its wake. She watched as the other woman tensed and knew why. The Amazo. The League had eyes and ears everywhere. "Women should not suffer at the hands of men. If an unfortunate fate were to perhaps befall Mr. von Armin, the League would consider the contract null and void."

"You came all this way to tell me that? I didn't know the League of Assassins sent their heirs to deliver messages."

"We simply have no desire to antagonize the Solntsevskaya. But you are correct. You have become a woman of interest to the League, Ms. Lance. Your recent acquisition of Sionis Industries on the behalf of the bratva has turned quite a few heads."

"Billionaires seem to be dropping like flies these days. Wayne. Kord. _Queen_. And now Roman Sionis. At this rate, Luthor will be the only one left standing."

"An undesirable outcome."

"Don't think we haven't noticed your maneuvers toward Merlyn Global and Ferris Air, either."

"You are very perceptive," Nyssa said. "The proclivities of these men with far too much money has left a power vacuum in the corporate world. A war is coming."

"You want allies."

"Of the sort. We have information that may be of interest to you and your employer."

"Another favor?"

"Proof. The League takes care of its enemies. It takes care of its friends, as well." Nyssa watched for Sara's reaction. "Slade Wilson has been sighted in the vicinity of Keystone City. It is suspected that he may make a move towards Starling soon."

"That's impossible. Slade is dead. I killed him."

"The League does not make mistakes, little bird. You'd do well to remember that." She turned, unafraid to leave her back exposed as she left. She walked slowly, though, every fibrous muscle in her body raging for the chance to stay a little while longer. The words, undiscliplined and strange, battered against her teeth until they could taste the air: "Take care, _Taeera al Asfar_. I hope to see you once more."

Nyssa gazed down at the city from her perch above Blüdhaven's Ace Chemicals branch. She did not need to turn towards her lieutenant to address him:

"You recognized the girl."

" _Yes_ ," he said, quick with his answer, his Arabic smooth as though it were his mother tongue.

"From your past life?"

" _A distant memory from a man that is no more_."


	2. Forever Evil

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first of the tie-ins. Enjoy the egg hunt!

1996

Thomas, for the first time, held his son in his arms.

"You're a miracle," he whispered. "All the doctors in the world said that you wouldn't be able to exist. They said we couldn't have another baby, but here you are." He turned to his wife. "Have you thought of a name, yet?"

"What about Patrick?"

"After my father?"

"Why not?"

"I don't know," Thomas said. "Look, Bruce. You have a younger brother."

The boy stood on his tiptoes, straining to catch a glimpse. "Can I hold him?"

"Of course, you can. Just sit down and be very careful."

Bruce's eyes lit as he watched his brother giggle. He held the baby close to his chest. "He looks like you, daddy." He couldn't tear his eyes away from the baby. "Can we name him after you?"

"That sounds wonderful," Martha said. "Thomas Jr."

"Uh, I-" Thomas attempted to stammer through his words. "I-"

"I'm your older brother," Bruce said. "I'm gonna protect you." He looked up to his father, glancing away for the first time. "Can we take Tommy to see Zorro?"

Thomas found clarity once more. "Of course, we can, Bruce. You're both a little young right now, but once the two of you are old enough, we'll all go together. As a family."


	3. Year One

"I think we can all agree that Mr. Sionis's decision to direct R&D's focus to the development of experimental _make up_ to be, well, shortsighted. He's a smart man, but...” Sara paused, searching for the right words. “There's got to be something in Gotham's water.”

The boardroom stifled a collective chuckle.

Sara continued; “I want to redirect R&D's resources. Especially now that we've bought Kord Enterprises. I don't want any of their experimental tech going to waste. After the S.T.A.R. Labs shitstorm three months ago, it's time we step up.” She turned, with surprising intensity, towards a blond sitting at the corner of the table. “You.”

“Yes?”

“You're new, aren't you?”

“Uh well sort of I was working for IT but I got transferred but it's not what you think because --”

“Yeah. Fine. You're the new head of R&D.”

“Um what?”

“Why did you think you were invited here, Ms. Smoak?”

“To fix the projector?”

Felicity smiled meekly up at her new boss. R&D? Sure she had been vastly overqualified for her position in IT, but when she had been informed of her transfer… She certainly had not been expecting this.

_R &D?!_

Sara ignored Felicity, readdressing the rest of the boardroom; “I want to be clear. I am not Roman Sionis. Some of you have been here for years. Some of you are newly appointed. I don't care. This is a new company, and like it or not, we're starting from the ground up.” She squeezed the shoulder of the young man who sat beside her. Felicity could see the sweat dripping down underneath his collar. “Tell me about our competitors,” Sara said.

“Well,” he cleared his throat. “Wayne Enterprises hasn't made any particularly surprising moves, but we just received word that their prodigal son has resurfaced. He doesn't seem all that interested in running the family business, however.”

“What else?”

“The Kane family is back on the map. The eldest son appears to be closely connected to one of the Hamiltons. We suspect a corporate merger in the near future. LexCorp's activities, however, are of much greater concern. We're having trouble gathering intel, but it seems Mr. Luthor as built a bunker of sorts beneath Metropolis. We believe he may be working on a new piece of technology. He also seems to be preparing to buy the Daily Planet.”

If Sara had been surprised, Felicity couldn't tell. Sara's face did not even twitch.

“One last thing,” the young man said. “After the Undertaking, many of the Starling based businesses were left in disarray. Merlyn Global remains in limbo, but Isabel Rochev was recently appointed CEO of Queen Consolidated.”

“I know her. She's a threat. Keep eyes on both her and Luthor. I want to know everything. Hell, I want to know when they take their _shits_.”

“Yes, ma'am.”

“I think we're done here,” Sara said, waving her hand. “You're all dismissed.”

The boardroom shuffled out without hesitation. An old habit from Roman Sionis's days, perhaps. More likely, they feared the cold ire of Sara.

Sara stayed behind, clearing her corner of the table.

“You know, I heard someone mention that Sara Lance is now the CEO of Sionis Industries. I told him to stop playing sick jokes. I punched him. I had to actually see it for myself to believe it.”

“Laurel, I...” Her stoic mask fell. “How did you get in here?”

“Really? Is that all you have to say for yourself? You were alive all this time, and you didn't tell us. You didn't even call.”

Laurel stood more than a few paces away, but even at that distance, Sara could smell the gin on her breath.

Sara winced. “I'm sorry--”

“--No. If you say one more word...” Laurel stumbled slightly to the side, her weight precariously balanced over her thin heels. “Every single thing that has gone wrong in our lives is your fault. You got on that stupid boat with my boyfriend. You didn't call us to tell us you were still alive, even though it probably would have saved Mom and Dad's marriage. You… You stole _my whole life_ away from me. And look at you now. How is it that you _always_ manage to end up with _everything_?”

“Laurel...”

“At least now I can have the closure to know that I can be done with you. For good this time.”

Sara did not – could not – move as Laurel left.

“Would you like me to call security, ma'am?”

“No, just… Make sure she gets wherever she needs to be safely.”

* * *

 

Construction of the club continued above their heads. Leonid raised his eyebrows as he watched his captain set her back and flip the tire forward, Laurel's words echoing in her ears. Leonid held out his hands for Sara to see:

“ _A wig? And a mask?_ _How long have you been doing this?_ ”

“ _You don't approve?_ ”

“ _Nyet_. _I simply do not understand._ ”

“ _The CEO of a Fortune 500 company can_ _'t run around beating dirtbag skulls in.”_

Leonid shrugged. “ _What I don't understand is_ why _you want to run around beating dirtbag skulls in_.”

“ _To blow off steam._ ”

“ _You are not just blowing off steam._ ”

“ _My city has gone to hell, and I'm not just going to sit around and do nothing_.”

“ _But we are criminals, too_.”

“ _With Anatoly as_ Pakhan _, our operations have changed. I wouldn't have stayed otherwise. Neither would you have, for that matter_.” She flipped the massive tire once more. “ _These pieces of shit go out with no other purpose than to destroy other people's lives. I hate men like that._ ”

Leonid grunted in response.

“ _You can either help me or get out_.”

Leonid had, at the time, grunted once more, his answer obvious. Which was how he found himself alone on a Starling roof spotting for a tiny blond American girl. It was clear, to him at least, who it was Sara had chosen as her targets. The thugs surrounded an even tinier girl. One had her pinned to the ground.

“ _You are going to take on an entire street gang?”_

“ _Are you going to try and convince me not to?_ ”

“ _Nyet. I was going to ask if I could help_. _The roof is boring_.”

“ _Maybe next time. I need you as my eyes and ears_.”

They're numbers were formidable, of course, but Sara was quick. It helped that, at first glance, they underestimated her, too. How could a single girl possibly hope to stand against fifteen men? Leonid barked into his mike; “ _Five-o-clock. Six meters._ ”

She swung the bo around without a glance before continuing to engage the assailant attacking her front.

“ _Another three incoming. Your flank. I do not think you can reach them all._ ”

“ _I have an idea_.”

The man in front lunged towards her. She did not parry. The man's momentum carried him forward, and the tip of the blade dipped into her shoulder.

He smiled.

Idiot.

Part of the plan.

She used his momentum, flipping him over her injured shoulder, sending him careening into his fucknut friends.

A flurry of kicks and spins – it wasn't long before the last of them are knocked out.

“Jesus fucking Christ, thank god.”

Sara stared down at the girl, eyes wide. “Cindy?”

“Oh fuck no. _Sin_. Get it right. And how the shit do you know me anyway? Who the hell are you?”

“A family friend.” The pilot's photograph burned in her pocket. “Do you have some place to go?”

“Yeah, I'll be fine.”

“Are you sure about that?”

“Look, lady. I'm grateful and all, but I really don't need to be somebody's charity case.” Sin vaulted away before Sara could stop her. “Thanks.”

Growling, Sara picked at the end of the blade that had broken off in her shoulder. Leonid glared, silent as they made their way back to the basement.

“ _If you are going to insist to continue playing hero alone, you should acquire better gear,”_ Leonid said. “ _Or you could allow me to fight. Had you done so this time, you would not have a shard of knife in your shoulder._ _Should we go to the hospital?_ ”

“ _Hell no. Just bring the field kit and dig it out. The knife didn't even nick a bone._ ” Sara watched as Leonid walked over to the supplies. She frowned when he stopped, examining a note. “ _What is it?_ ”

“ _Your girlfriend left you a message_.”

Her surprise launched her back into her native tongue. “My what?!”

* * *

 

“Ms. Smoak?”

Felicity groaned before swiveling around in her chair.

“Oh god please don't call me that. It's Felicity.” She squeaked, almost, when she caught glimpse of Sara's raised eyebrow. “I mean, I, uh, I didn't know it was you.”

“Felicity. It's fine. I just have a favor to ask.”

“Is it coffee? With all due respect you don't pay to get coffee; you pay me to--”

Sara found a slight smile pressing against her cheeks. “--Relax. I'm not going to ask you to get me coffee.”

“Oh.”

“Have you done your inventory yet?”

“I have someone on it now.”

“Well, I'd like you to set aside a couple items for me,” she said, handing Felicity a scrap of paper. “I know Sionis had his people working on cosmetics, but I also know he had a few specialists work on… other projects.”

Felicity ran her thumb down the list. “Uh, kevlar?”

“I'm opening a club. I'd like my bouncers to have top of the line gear.”

“I don't know what clubs you've been to, but kevlar? Really?”

Sara waved her hand as though her request was commonplace. “Standard issue in Blüdhaven. Besides. I'm opening the club in the Glades.”

“You're kidding,” Felicity said “Oh. No you're not. Well, you're the boss lady. I should be able to have everything ready for you by this afternoon.”

“Have it ready by next week. Right now, I have somewhere to be.”

* * *

 

The art gallery hardly seemed like a hideout for a den of assassins, much less the League. Still, Sara supposed that was the point of a front. Her chauffeurs flanked her as they guided her towards the back door, and they bowed as they stepped away.

“Metropolis? Seems a little bright for your tastes,” Sara said.

“You should know by now that we have agents in every city in the world. What sort of leader would I be if I did not check in from time to time?” Nyssa glanced up from her bow, setting it aside, the string hooked into place. “You did not bring your lapdog.”

“He seemed happy enough at the bar. I see you didn't bring yours either.”

“It didn't seem appropriate for the occasion.”

“What _is_ the occasion? Do you have more intel for me?”

“Nothing of the sort.” Nyssa nearly stammered over her words. A first. “I simply wished to speak to you.”

Sara smiled. “You're flattering me again.”

Nyssa didn't speak, almost, too busy matching Sara's smile with one of her own. Another first.

“It occurred to me that potential allies should not be strangers,” she said.

“And do you invite all of your potential allies to fake galleries?”

“No.” Her smile widened in anticipation of Sara's reaction. “I also noticed, during our scuffle, your inability to throw a proper right cross.”

“Seriously? You and Anatoly, both. I came all this way for a critique on the way I fight. My right cross is _fine_.”

She motioned towards the makeshift ring that occupied the center of the warehouse. “You are free to prove me wrong. Or, at least you are free to try.”

“Oh, you're on.”

They meet each other head on, grabbing whatever lies at their disposal in a sharp and dangerous dance. Raw yet precise. Unadulterated yet careful. A give and take. A kick. A throw. A slash. A right hook, even.

A sharp and dangerous dance.

Sara blinked as she felt the edge of the blade glance lightly against her throat. Nyssa smiled from above, straddling her waist with her legs. Sara swallowed, her breathing becoming dangerously shallow.

Good God.

“Do you acquiesce?” Nyssa said.

“Are you really going to make me go through all the motions of tapping out?'

“Perhaps.”

“Did I at least prove that my right cross is up to snuff?”

She lifted herself off from Sara before offering her hand. “I suppose you have.

Sara grumbled as she accepted, sore from the loss. Anatoly would have her ass if he found out. She continued to mumble in her head, and would have continued if Nyssa had not grabbed her by the shoulder, spinning her back around.

“You are injured.”

She looked down to find blood staining the fabric over her shoulder. “Shit. Yeah. I guess I must have reopened the gash. Leonid is going to kill me.”

“Shirt. Off.”

“Aren't you at least going to buy me dinner first?”

Nyssa sat her down at the edge of the ring, unamused, moving away only to grab a leather bound kit. Settling back down, she examined the open wound. Sara felt her skin redden beneath Nyssa's gaze.

“Are those _staples_?”

“Hm?” She finally allowed herself to exhale. “Oh. Yeah. I was never too good at sewing.”

“You are supposed to utilize a surgical device. Not a common _office stapler_.”

She shrugged. “Never got around to buying one. If it works, it works.” She tensed at the sight of Nyssa threading a needle. “You don't have to--”

“--Sh.”

Nyssa pinched the skin before guiding the needle through, and Sara felt the tension melt from her back, reacting to the feeling – the prick – of Nyssa's fingers working the skin. They fell into an easy silence.

“You should allow a proper medic to see to your wounds more often. It won't do if an ally of Ra's al Ghul keels over from simple medical incompetence.” She ran her eyes over Sara's other scars. “It seems as though all of your wounds have been crudely stapled together.”

At first she stayed silent: “I don't,” she starts, and her voice is quiet, “I don't really let other people fix me up. It drives Leonid up the wall, but… I suppose I'm not telling you anything you don't already know: the crew Ivo chose to put together weren't exactly a stand up bunch. And then Waller was almost worse.”

“How did you receive this?” Nyssa said. She ran a finger down Sara's side.

Sara shivered.

“Just a run-in with some idiot. Harkness, I think. He liked sharp things.”

“Mine's bigger.”

“Oh?”

Nyssa lifted her shirt, too, showing off the thin line of mangled tissue spreading across her torso. _Oh_.

“Six years ago, my father required that I stay in Gotham for an extended length of time. That city is full of deranged lunatics.”

“Well, if you want to compare size...” She pulled her pant leg up, exposing her calf. “I got this _before_ the shipwreck. I fell down the stairs when I was thirteen.”

“Were the stairs lined with _knives_?”

“Rocks. We were out hiking.”

“It seems you in fact attract sharp objects.” Nyssa leaned back. “Now that you're running about as Starling's vigilante, perhaps I should acquaint you with the art of archery.”

“How did you know?” Sara rolled her eyes at Nyssa's pointed glance. “Yeah, okay. Stupid question.” She looked down at her hands, remembering Shado: “You know, I used to know someone who could hit a moving target with her eyes closed. She was a good person.” Looking up at Nyssa again: “I'd be okay with learning something new.”

“Perhaps you might teach me something new as well.”

* * *

 

Slade dug his knife into the mahogany desk before turning to greet his guest:

“Mr. Curry. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“I'm here to ensure you follow through with our deal. My colleagues did not prop up Rochev simply so that you might idle around.”

“Patience. I will force Starling to it's knees.”

“You should remember that our competitors will not be so docile as to wait for your first move.”

Slade laughed. “They are _women_.”

“--And if you fail to recognize their strength, they will no doubt slit your throat. There is a bigger picture at stake here.”

He laughed again. He wanted to slash the dagger against Curry's face. He wanted to even out the man's scar. “Bigger picture. Right.”

“My associate will remain here with you. He'll ensure that you do not fail.”

“You walk around like royalty but you know nothing.” He pulled the knife from the desk. “Have faith, Curry. I will succeed with or without your help. I have already lost _everything_. I have nothing left to lose.”

The man, standing eye to eye with Slade, did not flinch. He did not budge.

“Careful. You're not the only one who has become well acquainted with loss, Slade.” He turned around to leave. Enough of this. “And please. Do yourself a favor and dispense with the surname. My name is Arthur.”

* * *

 

The balcony was cold. Not as cold as Moscow, but Sara had spent far too much time in America as of late. She cursed her loss of tolerance. She poured herself another refreshment from the table. At least Luthor had the mind to purchase decent liquor.

“Ms. Lance. It's good to see you venturing out of the slums of Starling and Blüdhaven.” Maxwell Lord ghosted his hand over his shoulder. “You've really stirred things up as of late. Very impressive.”

She considered snapping his fingers. “I have Sionis's sentence to Arkham to thank.”

“Hm. Yes. That one never struck me as completely right in the head. To be honest, not many in Gotham do. The Wayne boy in particular. I went to school with the both of them, you know, before that silly 'tragedy.'”

“I wouldn't know. I never met him.” She really would snap his fingers off. “I should probably be going.”

“You don't really think you're going to walk away from me, do you?”

“Sara!” A familiar lilt cut across the crowd. “I don't suppose Mr. Lord is bothering you?” Nyssa grabbed the man by the back of his neck, sweeping in from behind. “Lex Luthor is many things, but I am certain even he would balk at your behavior towards his guests tonight. I am also very certain that he would have little to say should you have, for instance, a little accident falling over the railing.”

Lord paled.

“Run along now.” She patted him on the back.

“You didn't need to do that,” Sara said.

“Believe me. That was more for my benefit than yours.”

“Oh?” She had no other words, finding herself taken over the way Nyssa's dress hugged her form.

“Have you found Metropolis to you're liking then?” Nyssa smiled, her hand momentarily finding the small of Sara's back. “What will Starling do without its Canary?”

“I own a major company. If Luthor invites me to one of his shindigs while I'm in town, it's only polite that I attend. To be honest, I didn't expect to see you again so soon. I have to say I never thought I'd see the daughter of Ra's al Ghul at a cocktail party.”

She tutted. “Careful. Tonight I am not Nyssa al Ghul.”

“Then who are you?”

“Nyssa _Raatko_.”

“And does Nyssa _Raatko_ attend cocktail parties often?”

“An assassin's business is a delicate affair, _Taeera al Asfar_. We are not all shadows and blades.”

She blushed. She shifted her eyes away, refusing to meet Nyssa's gaze.

“Yellow bird… Isn't that grammatically incorrect?”

“I took liberties. I cannot explain why but it simply felt… right.” Nyssa smirked “Or perhaps you would prefer _kanareyka_.”

“You speak Russian?”

“I speak many languages. As do you apparently.”

“ _Cantonese. Mandarin._ ” The Arabic was clumsy as it stumbled off her tongue. _“The Arabic was a little… hobby of mine. I don't speak it well._ ”

Nyssa leaned in, whispering into Sara's ear. “ _You speak it well enough for me_.”

Sara gripped the table. Ever since the Gambit… It had been a long time she had wanted anybody, much less the Heir of the goddamn Demon. Blood rushed through her ears.

“I must admit,” Nyssa continued. “As enigmatic as Luthor might be, I've grown weary of this charade.” A set of plates shattered as they hit the ground, Maxwell Lord stumbling over the broken shards. “And as it stands, my time here appears to have run out.”

Sara raised a brow. “Is he--”

“Don't worry. We are not as base as many might think. As I am sure you are aware, sometimes there are far more… creative ways to deal with threats.”

She watched, from the corner of her eye, as the man fell catatonic to the ground. The crowd fell into a collective gasp as Vicky Vale unearthed a bag of heroin from his pocket.

“That would be my cue,” Nyssa said, turning. “Perhaps you might join me. I have something I would like to show you.”

“Sounds intriguing.”

A long walk for a pair of women in dresses and heels. Still. Neither woman seemed to wish to be anywhere else in the world.

“So Maxwell Lord?” Sara said, and she forced a lightness into her town, hoping she might see a smile break out across the usually tense face.

Nyssa shrugged, perfectly relaxed. “My father briefly considered him as a possible candidate for my betrothal.”

They approached the gallery, bristling as she felt Nyssa's hand slide down her back. Guiding her. Cold fingers against numb skin. Nyssa's face stayed relaxed, but her breath caught as it left her lungs.

“He wanted _you_ to marry _him_?” She scoffed. “What changed?”

“He proved to be weak of mind. He blindly flailed about without even the slightest awareness of the League's machinations towards him. Eventually he became more of a nuisance than anything else. My father now has his eye on some fool prince.”

Sara felt a knot settle in her throat, clogging her airways. “Have you met this prince?”

“Not as of yet,” Nyssa said. Her thumb began to move in circles before she could stop it. “My father is far more concerned with my marital future than I am.”

They entered the gallery.

“And you're okay with that? You're okay with letting someone else decide that for you?”

“It is my duty as Heir. If I am to rule the League, I must ensure that succession does not die with me.”

Sara turned to face Nyssa, wanting desperately to burst and close the short distance between them. “Sounds like you don't have much room to live your own life.”

Nyssa swallowed as she lightly curled her fingers around the fabric of Sara's dress.

“You are mistaken,” she said.

“Am I?”

If she thought about it, she couldn't remember. She couldn't remember if she had lifted her palm to Nyssa's cheek or if Nyssa had lifted her palm to Sara's cheek. She couldn't even remember, no matter how hard she squeezed or wrung her brain, whether or not she had stood on her toes to graze her lips against the corner of Nyssa's mouth.

Nyssa pushed her away; as if on cue, League assassins had filed into the gallery.

“Nyssa,” the first one – the familiar one – said. “Ra's al Ghul has arranged transport. With the Lord business complete, he would like us to begin our return within the hour.”

Emotion fled from her voice. “Did he say why?”

“He did not.”

“Very well.” Her voice stayed cold. “Sara. I'm afraid I must leave.”

“Is there--”

“--No. I trust your return to Starling will be well.”

* * *

 

Sara could still feel Nyssa's hand on the small of her back as she approached the tall doors. She could feel the way Nyssa's fingers had felt against her numb skin as though it hadn't been an entire day since leaving Metropolis. She blinked, a fruitless attempt to spread moisture over her weary eyes.

Before she could knock:

“So it's true. Are you here to buy my home?” Thea opened the door, glaring at Sara.

“No, of course not. Can we talk?”

“Come in.” She turned, leaving the door open. “It's not like I'll be able to stop you.”

A huff and a sigh. Sara followed Thea in.

This is important.

This has to be said.

You made a promise.

“Sara. It's good to see you.” Moira stepped forward, pulling Sara into an awkward hug. “I'm glad to see that you are well. Shall I leave the two of you alone?”

“No… Actually both of you should hear what I have to say.”

Moira pursed her lips. “It's about Oliver, isn't it? Is he…?”

“No, but he wanted you to know the truth. He… When we were on the island, Oliver was…” She swallowed. She could still see him, reaching out towards her, as the tide swept him away. “He was different. He was strong. After the storm hit the Gambit, Oliver washed up on the island, but I was held prisoner on a ship. Oliver rescued us. And when he had the chance to leave, he stayed so that he could save a friend. He never gave up on the people he cared about. Even when I did. That's the kind of person Oliver was. He wasn't the same kid who left on the Gambit. He wanted you to know that.”

Thea stood, knocking her knees against the table.

“That _kid_ was still my brother. Do you really think I care what kind of man he became?”

“Thea...” Moira winced.

“No, mom. None of that matters, because _he's not here_. Did you even try to save him? Or did you leave him there to die? He should have been the one to come back. Not you.”

Thea's feet were heavy against the stairs as she ran. Sara and Moira stood in her wake.

“I apologize, Sara. Thea is in--”

“--She's in a lot of pain. I know. She's right, though. Every day I wish that Ollie had been the one to make it home.”

She turned to make her leave as well.

“Sara. Thank you.”

“Good luck with your candidacy, Mrs. Queen. You'll have my support.”

* * *

 

The doorman nodded towards Laurel, silently opening the door as she made her way into the newly constructed Lance Estate. Lance Estate. Imagine that. A hulking man looked up from his seat in the kitchen.

“Sara is upstairs,” he said. “Would you like me to tell her that you are here?”

“ _No_. No need to bother yourself. I'll find her.”

She stomped, and for a moment, she was reminded of their childhood, stomping after each other through the house after fights. Quentin becoming fed up. Scolding them. Telling them to get over themselves.

Laurel cracked open the door, and her eyes opened wide in surprise.

Sara pulled the shirt over her head. A damn shitty day. A damn shitty week. A damn shitty _six years_. Maybe if Ollie had come home instead...

“Oh my god.”

Sara turned sharply at the noise, cursing herself for not noticing the intrusion. A mistake. She winced as she watched Laurel's eyes widen once more. She pulled the shirt back over her head.

“Sara.”

“Did you want to yell at me again? Get in line.”

Laurel's voice wavered, her conviction dripping away. “Thea called. She told me you came around to see her.”

“I had some things I wanted to say.”

The stood, silent. Sara picked at the surface of her bedside table, running her nail across the grains.

“Does it hurt?”

“Does what hurt?”

Laurel shot her a pointed glance: _You know what I'm talking about you idiot._

“They're old. Most of them.” Sara sighed. She hadn't known Nyssa long but already she had made the scars hurt that much less.

“What happened out there?”

“You want to know why I didn't come back as soon as I could? This is why.” She turned away. A weak attempt to find something for her hands to do. “The things I've done… There's a darkness inside of me, Laurel. I let it in, and it'd be better if you stayed away.”

“Oh don't be so melodramatic.”

She found a softness in Laurel's eyes.

“You're my little sister,” Laurel said, and she embraced her. Sara grimaced. Second hug today. Although this one was decidedly less awkward. “I just got you back. I'm not going to lose you again.”

A damn shitty day. A damn shitty week. A damn shitty _six years_. Maybe if Ollie had come home instead… Sara attempted to blink her tears away and cursed herself when they fell. For a brief moment, Sara Lance, the young girl who thought emoticons were fun, returned. But only for a moment; the small words fell out of Sara mouth, and Laurel knew, even then, that they weren't meant for her:

“Do you think I'm allowed to be happy?”

Laurel nodded: O _f course, you are. Of course, you're allowed_.

She pulled away and gave Sara a smile, attempting to pull one out of Sara, too: “You know you have some pretty scary people guarding the door.”

* * *

 

PRESENT DAY

S.T.A.R. Labs had never been all that secure, but it's easier than he imagined it would be to enter the building. Barry doesn't need his speed to slip through the dark halls with ease, making his way to the Cortex, to the room where entire lives – entire universes, it seemed – had begun and ended.

In the distance, a woman's voice –

“Cisco? Can you hear me? I need you t o breathe. We'll get through this.”

“I think something's wrong. Something has changed and it's very very wrong.”

Barry bursts into the room, skidding to find Caitlin leveling a gun towards his chest. It has been a long time since he has been afraid of speeding bullets.

“Who the hell are you?” she says. “Take whatever you want and _leave_. We don't care.”

“Caitlin. Listen to me. I'm not here to take anything--”

“--How do you know my name?”

“Because I _know you_. I'm from another Earth… Or another timeline. I don't know which right now, but I do know you. And Cisco. And I know he's a metahuman, too, affected by the particle accelerator. You have to listen to me.”

“You sound insane.”

“I know it does, believe me. I just want to figure out what's going on.” He pauses as he thinks of his mother, of Nora. Alive. “Look, I'm not going to hurt you. I can help. Cisco can feel vibrations through space-time. I've never seen him have an episode this bad, but I know if we can counteract the receptors in his metagene, we can at least stabilize him. Trust me, Caitlin.”

Cisco grabs Caitlin by the arm; “I've seen him before,” he says, his voice strained. “In my visions. He's our friend.”

Caitlin lowers the gun.


	4. Torchbearer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I realize that most of y'all are reading this for the Sara/Nyssa goodness. I'm kind of fond of this universe, though, and I hope you guys are, too. While I'm using these vignettes as palate cleansers between chapters, these are also my little attempts to CW-ify several DC characters, and if any of you would like to see how your favorite characters fit in what I call Earth-804, let me know and I'll see what I can do.
> 
> Shout out to any GL fans. If you're out there. (I hope).

2015

Alex DeWitt fiddles with the ring on her finger; Kyle had always wanted to go to space.

It had started on the night of the particle accelerator explosion. She had been visiting Central City as a liaison to Picture News, on loan from the New York Times. She had been, in fact, assigned to the unveiling of the particle accelerator itself, and she might have found herself at ground zero had the metro line not faced technical difficulties. From the station platform, she felt the wave pass through her without incident.

And then darkness. Oblivion.

She had woken up in Central City Hospital, surprised to find Kyle asleep in a chair. The artist could hardly pay his tab at the bar much less pay for a ticket to the Midwest. Still, Kyle had come. She supposed nothing could have stopped him from doing so.

The way he had told it, a rock had hit her in the head after the explosion.

"You should've seen it," he had said. "It _glowed_. But guess what? I have a secret."

He had swiped a piece of the damn rock before anyone could notice, and being the artist he was, he had carved a ring out of it.

At first, she had worn it around her neck. But even then, even at only that, she had been filled with an immeasurable sense of courage. As though she could accomplish any task set out before her. As though she could fly.

"Woah," Kyle had said. Just woah. His eyes had flashed with a tinge of green, and in that moment, through Alex, he too had become momentarily connected to this battery of power. Later, they discovered that Alex could, if she so chose, _drain_ others of courage, too; she held power over the ebb and flow of will that flowed through people's minds.

Kyle had always been obsessed with comic books, and so he drafted outfit after outfit and insisted and insisted and insisted until Alex finally gave in.

They became heroes.

Of a sort.

Imbue rent-a-cops and liquor store cashiers with infinite _courage_. Leave crooks cowering in _fear_. Stop crime before a single shot could be fired. She could tell he had loved every moment of it. He had grown up without a father, after all, and had, as a child, religiously tuned into serials featuring Starling's mysterious Wildcat. And now his girlfriend could stop crime, too.

They were heroes.

Of a sort.

Alex found Kyle in the oven. Dismembered.

The police told her his name was Clifford. A dishonorably discharged airman. She didn't care.

Kyle was dead.

She stands over Clifford's beaten body, now, and he cowers in fear before her, engulfed by this darkest night. Alex finds it within herself to finally slip the ring onto her finger. It speaks to her. It's lonely, too. The only one. The last one. Purpose. Find purpose.

Alex DeWitt. You have the ability to overcome great fear.


	5. Under the Hood

PRESENT DAY

_S.T.A.R. Labs._

_Barry and Cisco and Caitlin. A father and daughter and_ him _. Harrison Wells. Standing. Smug. Tortured._

_A man steps out from behind – he rests his hand on Caitlin's shoulder._

_Lightning across his chest._

_A silver helmet._

Cisco stumbles back. The headaches have subsided, at least. Barry looks to him expectantly. Caitlin, of course, continues to regard Barry with skepticism. And mistrust.

S.T.A.R. Labs has been lonely these days. Ever since Ronnie and Dr. Wells died in the explosion…

“There was someone there,” Cisco says. “I know him. Jay Garrick. He works for Mercury Labs.”

* * *

 

Nyssa stood by her father's side, and she watched as their lieutenants dragged the accused into the room. Battered and bruised. His League uniform had been ripped and torn.

“You loved this woman,” Ra's al Ghul said.

The bound assassin pursed hes lips.

Ra's al Ghul continued. “You swore an oath to me. To _die_ for me. You came to me in your time of need because you had nothing. I gave you everything. No, I will not fault you for your emotions. That much you cannot help. I punish you now because you so _easily_ forget that you do not serve this woman of yours. You serve me. You must serve unwaveringly.” Ra's al Ghul stepped down towards the man. “Tell me. How willing would you be to die for me with the knowledge that you would be leaving your precious beloved alone?”

“Please,” he said. “I stood by your side. I was your hound.”

“ _Kalab Shayt_ _a_ _n_. Face your fate with honor. Or at least dignity.”

“Please don't do this.”

“There is a price you must pay for your crimes that can only be measured in agony and blood. But know I will take no pleasure in this.”

Ra's al Ghul beckoned. The woman, her hair as red as fire, was bound too. Her knees scraped against the tile, her arms straining as they pulled her through the doors.

“What is she doing here? What are you going to do to her?”

“The question is, my friend, what you will to do to her. Did you really think that your actions would not carry consequences? That, regardless of my own governance, your beloved, _an innocent_ , would not suffer? She is a liability. A weakness. And her connection to you will only work to harm her.” His face became tinged with a smile that was anything but comforting. “Now you must witness these consequences with your own eyes. Be glad that this will be done through the hand of the League. It is by far the preferred alternative.”

Kalab Shaytan begged. “Let her go and allow me to demonstrate my reborn loyalty. Leave her be and I will forever act as your horseman.”

“Quiet. You had a choice when pursuing your beloved. You have a choice now.” Ra's al Ghul leveled with Kalab Shaytan. “With your death, she will serve the League as one of its many concubines. Or she will be spared and die by your hand. Choose quickly or I will not be so merciful.”

“I-” He stammered, addressing his beloved. “I'm so sorry.”

The knife clattered to the ground before him.

His wrists tied tight, he angled his fingers around the handle.

“I'm sorry,” he said again.

The red-haired woman cried out: “Abbot!”

Too late.

His blood, as red as her hair, sprayed forth, staining the hem of Ra's al Ghul's robes.

“His name was Kalab Shaytan. _You_ serve us now as Thueban. Honor him,” the Head of the Demon said, his eyes down turned towards her. “Alnnahs. She is one of you now. Train her. I will not tolerate incompetence"

Alnnahs, twice her size, pulled her over his shoulders, ignoring her tears and wails.

Nyssa did not close her eyes. She did not try to imagine Sara. She did not try to imagine what she might have done in Kalab Shaytan – Abbot's – shoes.

Nyssa did not even dare to blink.

* * *

 

For a month now, a cat-like figure had been haunting the streets of Starling, tearing through the city and leaving a trail of chaos in her wake.

It had been twice as long since she had last seen Nyssa, and the arrival of this _cheetah_ of a woman had almost seemed like a godsend. A chance to blow off steam a little. A chance to get her mind off the way Nyssa's mood seemed to change like the wind. She hadn't even told Leonid. It would have been more of a godsend, of course, had the woman not been so damn infuriating, twiting and dodging and pulling away at every blow. It had seemed as though she would never make a mistake.

Silly.

Everyone makes mistakes. A well aimed strike against the pouch she carried on her side, and the needles came pouring out. At least now she possessed some sort of hint as to what it was the woman had been injecting into her victims.

“Felicity. I'd like for you to look into something for me.”

She turned the syringe over in her hand. “Are you going to give me some sort of idea as to what it is? It'll be a lot quicker if I know what I'm dealing with.”

“It's a sports drink.”

“In a syringe?”

“It's part of a new… paleo system that I'm on. For maximum absorption. I just need you to run a diagnostic on it.”

“ _In a syringe_?”

“I also ran out of bottles.”

Felicity spun back towards her workstation, exasperated. First, bulletproof armor for club bouncers. Now, she wants a sports drink filled syringe examined.

There are other jobs out there that are _slightly_ less surreal.

When Sara returns, she is even more exasperated:

“This isn't a sports drink,” she said, frowning. “It's some sort of bizarre _poison_.”

“Good thing I had you run an analysis on it, then.”

“Before you took it as part of your weird rich people diet?”

“Mm. Yeah. That,” she said, a little absentminded. “Can you tell me anything else about it? I'd hate to see anybody else get their hands on something like this.”

Felicity rolled her eyes. “ _Right_. So it causes major cellular disfigurement. Warps bone structure, skin discoloration, muscle legions. Nasty stuff. You know. The sort of symptoms we've been seeing from those recent attacks...”

“Any psychological effects?” Sara studied the results, ignoring Felicity's off-hand comments.

“As far as I can tell, it looks like some sort of hallucinogen. Hard to say because it seems pretty ancient like voodoo ancient. But here's what I _can_ tell you.” She rolled the office chair to the side, giving Sara full access to the findings displayed across the computer screens. “They found a similar substance off an artifact in the Natural History Museum in Keystone. The artifact disappeared with some lady named Barbara Minerva three weeks ago. _She_ has been sighted in Starling.”

“That's… a lot of information. A lot of information that doesn't have anything to do with science.”

“I'm blonde – doesn't mean I'm stupid. I mean, I don't think _you're_ stupid, I was just saying--”

“--Thank you. This helps. I'll… let my nutritionist know what's going on.”

Felicity threw her head into her hands as Sara left the department.

“I literally just said I'm not stupid,” she mumbled.

* * *

 

“I'm no fool,” Ra's al Ghul said. “You have been spending a great deal of time with this Canary.”

Nyssa felt herself tighten. “Yes. She is a resourceful woman.”

“She is indeed. She would make an excellent addition to the League. Considering her… past, it would only take a little push to drive her towards the League.”

her jaw twitched, her molars clamping down hard. “I don't believe that would be wise. She is a much more useful asset as she stands now.”

“As a gangster and vigilante? Her talents are wasted.”

“ _As a business woman_. Her work with Sionis Industries brings her close to whatever Mercy Coast is planning.”

Ra's al Ghul, as still as stone, trained his eyes on Nyssa. On the ways the muscles in her face moved. Her fingers as she spoke. The speed of her words.

“You like this one,” he said. “Be careful, Nyssa. That demonstration was not for Shaytan alone. You should know better than anyone; you yourself have executed men for lesser betrayals. Do not indulge this weakness.”

She steadied herself; she did not enjoy this. She did not enjoy the way her father talked about Taeera al Asfar., the way his words maneuvered around the _potential_ of the Canary.

“I only serve the League. As always.”

“So you say.” Ra's al Ghul turned as though the current line of conversation had begun to bore him. “Go back to Starling. I sense that this girl will play a much more significant role in the events that are to come. But do not forget who you are, Nyssa.”

“As you wish.”

She walked an even pace out of the room, careful to match the same rhythm she ahd used her whole life.

Her knees ached, begging and clamoring for a faster gait.

* * *

 

Thea relaxed into the buzz of alcohol swimming through her brain. The streets of the Glades were empty and silent all for the occasional wail of the siren. She stumbled, veering at times, off the sidewalk curb.

_C'mon. I dare you. Come after me._

_I dare you_.

_Attack me. Someone. Anyone._

But she didn't see the shadow approach from behind.

The Canary did.

She was inches away from Thea when the metal hit her across the face, sending her skidding across the street. Thea's eyes widened, watching the Canary descend upon the woman. The Canary danced, effortlessly cutting through the air as she parried the woman's blows. The woman, she's fast, but the Canary is strong.

A stray blow caught the woman in the head.

The woman slammed against a car, denting the metal.

The Canary's face was hidden, shadows and strands of hair veiling the finer details.

“Who are you,” Thea said; her words were clumsy, more clumsy than she would've liked now that she was addressing _the Canary_.

“It doesn't matter,” she said. “Just get to safety. Quickly.”

“Behind you!”

Too late; the syringe sinks into the Canary's neck, missing the artery by a hair; a hail of arrows shifting the woman's aim. The shaft of each arrow shiver as they make contact, sinking into their targets…

Nyssa spun down from the roof, sliding and spinning down, her leg hooked to the unraveling silk. One after another, she continued to fire, forcing the agile creature into retreat…

Nyssa held Sara, examining the wound, teeth tightly clenched. Thea cowers when she sends an arrow flying towards a back alley.

“Show yourself.” Her voice, for a moment, wavers. “You are not fooling anyone. You have been following the Canary for weeks.”

Felicity emerges. “Look, I'm a friend. I don't want any trouble...”

“I am aware. Take her to the club on Water Street. They will allow you in.” She struggled to step away, letting go only once Felicity stepped close enough to take hold. Even then, she hesitated. “Quickly. It will not be long before the effects of the venom take hold.”

It wasn't difficult to track Barbara Minerva down.

Nyssa al Ghul stood over her, her hood and cowl casting shadows over her face; “You have made a grave error.”

* * *

 

The bratva thugs were hardly a match as Nyssa wordlessly made her way through the empty club, throwing one aside as she walked into the basement.

To Leonid's distaste, she addressed Felicity first. “Do you have the antidote?”

“Already done before you got here. Sara gave me a sample of the poison a while back. As soon as I figured out what it was, I started coming up with the antidote. She should be back to normal in no time.” Felicity faced the assassin. “Who are you supposed to be, anyway?”

“Nyssa. Daughter of Ra's al Ghul. Heir to the Demon.”

“Right. Felicity Smoak. MIT Class of '09.”

“Nyssa?” Sara squinted, attempting to clear her vision. _Nyssa_.

Nyssa glided across the room before Felicity could blink, and she held Sara's hand as though she were operating on instinct.

“I'm here,” she said.

“Is Thea…?”

“I ensured her safety.”

“And Minerva?”

“What do you think?”

Felicity ushered a reluctant Leonid out of the room. “I think it's time for us to step away.” She hummed to herself. “Just go with the flow, Felicity. Just go with the flow… You know, I could really spruce this place up…”

Sara turned away. “Why are you here?”

“You needed help.”

She could never put her finger on what made her do it. It hadn't been quick. It hadn't been sudden.

No. It had been slow.

Deliberate.

Sara pressed her palm against the back of Nyssa's neck, pulling her down.

Her lips moved against Nyssa's and Nyssa's against hers. Clumsy and awkward but right. Absolutely right. Nyssa's hand moved to her hip and…

Sara pulled her down and…

Sara _gasped_ as Nyssa's thumb circled her cheek…

She pulled away. Someone pulled away. _Nyssa_ pulled away.

Breathless, she spoke. “That was unwise.”

“ _Nyssa_.”

“I apologize, Sara. I can't stay here.” She turned, unsteady on her feet, her voice small. “Stay well. Please.”

“Nyssa!”

Nyssa found the safehouse is painfully large, her chest still reeling from the feeling of… She snapped an arrow in her fist.

The assassin, her father's new horseman, addressed her from behind.

“Ra's al Ghul sent word. He would like us--”

“--To look into Slade Wilson. I am aware.” She attempted to keep an even timbre to her voice. “You are familiar with Sara Lance, are you not?”

“Once.”

“Tell me about her.”

“She is a memory from a life that is--”

“-- _I asked you to tell me about her_.”

* * *

 

Sara wavered before picking up the sat-phone, her one lane method of communication with Moscow. Nyssa. The...

She shouldn't have--

No. Nevermind. Don't think about it. Stay focused.

She held the phone to her ear:

SARA: _I have news. There_ _are_ _hits_ _on_ _Isabel Rochev_ _and the Queens._ _Somehow, this involves Slade. I know it._ _Someone sent Barbara Minerva after_ _them_ _._

ANATOLY: _Yes_ , t _hat is concerning._ _But a_ _s of right now, I'd like to know how you are doing_.

SARA: _I'm fine._

ANATOLY: _I hear that some blonde vigilante has been gallivanting through Starling City, foiling crime_.

SARA: _A side project_. _Believe me: I'm focused at the task at hand_.

ANATOLY: _You are not bound to the bratva, Sara_. _You may think me incompetent, but I do have others who can handle our more criminal enterprises in America._

SARA: _I'm the only CEO of Sionis._

ANATOLY: _Very well. So report to us on corporate matters. Consider it a favor_.

SARA: _For what?_

ANATOLY: _The bratva will stay out of Starling. I wouldn't want to_ _accidentally_ _cross paths with the Canary, after all_.

SARA: _If I do this..._

ANATOLY: _If you do this, you will c_ _all me if you require aid. I will not hesitate to help a friend_. _Try not to die._

The point of no return, then.

Sara stared across the room into the glass case that housed her uniform. She could almost fool herself into seeing, if she squinted, where Nyssa had held her.

* * *

 

You're going to have to talk to him at some point,” Laurel had said.

“Only if don't you tell him anything,” Sara had said, grunting while gesturing to her back. “I want him to still think of me as the girl I used to be.”

Laurel had given a small nod in response, poking at Sara until, finally she agreed.

A moment which ultimately led to far more hugs and tears than she would ever be comfortable with. And a promise of lunch.

“Dad. Stop staring. It's weird.”

“It's just good to see you again.” Quentin couldn't look away. He couldn't even bring himself to pinch his arm. “How is it that you got to be the CEO of a company like that, anyway?”

“ _Dad_. It's a long story. I'd rather talk about you.”

“You're my daughter. I have all the time in the world for you.”

“ _Please,_ dad?”

“Fine. I guess I can regale you with the story of that narcotics ring I took down a couple months back.”

Sara smiled; “Sounds fancy.”

Before he could open his mouth, a tune began to whistle through the air, emanating from his pocket. He fished it out with his fingers, his eyes still too afraid to leave that of his daughter.

“Damn. Hold on. Let me tell them to assign another officer to this case. They'll understand.”

“Don't do that.” Sara patted him on the hand. “I have a big meeting to get to anyway. We can talk tomorrow.”

“Are you sure?”

“I'm not going anywhere. I promise.”

“Thanks, honey,” he said, and it took every fiber in his being to believe her. He lightened his tone; “This business with the masked vigilante really has the whole department up in arms.”

Sara smiled, and as they left the old diner they had once frequented years ago, she nodded along as he explained in the detail the antics of this so-called Canary.

* * *

 

Leonid frowned when Sara told him to refrain from engaging the woman perched on the roof of the club.

She knew Nyssa could hear her, but still she climbed up slowly and silently, as though a too sudden movement might cause the other woman to flee. The minutes ground on and they stood, lips pursed, steadfast as they endured the narcotic silence.

Sara's words cut through the air. “Are you just going to stand there all night?”

“I was considering it.” Nyssa refused to turn. “Your meal with your father seemed to go well.”

“You were watching?”

She stared out into the night, examining the city skyline. They were like stars, shimmering and blinking. “It won't happen again.” _The truth? I couldn't stay away_.

She could feel Sara step closer.

“Will you stop running away from me?”

“I'm not running.” _But I must._

“Semantics, Nyssa.”

“We live in two different worlds.” _You don't belong in mine._

“If you haven't noticed, I'm not exactly the most stand-up girl myself. I have my demons, too.” Sara smiled weakening Nyssa's resolve. “Besides, I don't know about you, but I wouldn't want to be in a relationship with someone who keeps all their demons to themselves.”

“I am the heir to _the Demon_ , Sara.” _I will always be my father's daughter._

“And, news flash, I am not some damsel in distress.”

“If my father knew he would have you killed.” _He would have me kill you_.

“I can take care of myself.”

“I have not known you for long, Taeera al Asfar. I do not know why you frighten me.” Nyssa would never admit it, but in that moment, her voice cracked, vulnerability – _raw fear_ – seeping through the seams. “But I wouldn't be able to live with myself if you died because of something I did.”

“And I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I let you walk away back into a life where you don't really get to live. Turn around. Look at me.” Despite herself, Nyssa complied, her waist moving of its own accord. Sara, meeting her eyes, continued; “Whatever short time that we've spent together… I've felt more alive than I have in years. I know a lot about surviving, Nyssa, more than anyone really knows but maybe, at some point, life should be about more than just surviving.”

Brimming with quiet desperation, Nyssa closed the distance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First, thanks for sticking around!
> 
> Second, if anyone's wondering, all of the characters I use for this story are all 100% from the DCU; no OCs here. I'm having a lot of fun scattering easter eggs around like it's candy, so... happy hunting!


	6. Citizen Cold

2013

Leonard Snart and Malcolm Merlyn. Face to face. Overlooking Starling.

"A little birdy told me what you were up to out here," Snart said.

"I think you're a little out of your comfort zone, kid. Why don't you get back to Central City."

"It's a little late for that now, don't you think? Besides. These little devices of yours have quite the blast radius."

"My wife and son are dead. I'm going to raze Starling to the ground."

Snart tapped the barrel of his gun against his shoulder. "See that's the problem. I really could care less if you ground Starling up into confetti. But Central City happens to fall into your blast radius. I like Central City. Can't leave it. Don't want to."

"You have no idea who you're dealing with," Malcolm snarled. "You're just a two-bit hero. You can't stop me."

"Oh I'm no hero," Snart said. "And I'm certainly not two-bit."

Ice spirals out of his gun, spreading over the surface of the closest device, pummeling the metal with cold.

Malcolm seethed. "You fool. Even if you do destroy everything here, I have others placed all around the city."

"Like I said. Don't care. Just trying to keep your brand of lunatic out of my city. You're almost as bad as Mick."

Malcolm unsheathed his sword, charging towards Snart... Snart didn't even budge; he watched as the sword's trajectory neared his jugular...

Malcolm screamed his hands turning blue and black and grey. His limbs shattered. Like glass. Snart smiled as he filled Malcolm's chest with ice.

"Didn't see that coming, did you? A little thing I like the call the cold field. Stops everything in its path cold to absolute zero. See, here's the thing. I don't talk the ear off of my enemies until it's already too late." Snart clicked his teeth. "It's really a damn shame. I forgot to bring the paparazzi with me."


	7. The Daring Young Gal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...on the flying trapeze!

PRESENT DAY

Jay Garrick examines the data Caitlin has given him.

“Makes sense,” he says. “It's theoretical, but if you're able to run fast enough, you should be able to break a 'time barrier,' so to speak. But it's also possible that we exist in separate universes. As part of some sort of multiverse.”

Cisco leans back, lightheaded with excitement. “Dude. This is so trippy.”

“I've traveled to another Earth before,” Barry says. “And I've traveled through time. But this… feels different so far. I'm starting to remember memories I've never had. I'm even starting to remember my mother. What I don't remember is ever running fast enough to cause any of this.”

“So what if you weren't the one pollute the timeline?”

“What do you mean?”

“You said the last time you traveled through time, Cisco could remember the original timeline. What if the same thing's happening here?”

“I don't have Cisco's powers.”

“But you _are_ attuned to vibrations.”

Barry flexes his fingers, eying the results of his bloodwork that confirmed what he secretly suspected. “I'm not connected to the speed force anymore. I can't even run a mile without getting winded.”

“It's just a possible explanation. Do you know anyone who might be capable of accomplishing something like this?”

Easy.

Barry knows.

Only one man would – or could – do this to him.

“Thawne.”

* * *

 

Sara stretched across the bed, throwing her arm across Nyssa's waist.

“You've been away from Nanda Parbat for six month,” Sara said. “You sure it's all right.”

“I've been careful, beloved. And, for better or for worse, my father seems invested in your continued well-being. He instructed me to keep an eye on you.”

“Is that what you're doing with me,” she asked, playfully.

“I'm here because I love you,” Nyssa said. “You know, I have never done this before.”

“What? Have sex? Seriously?”

“Excuse me?”

“Look at you. And I mean, speaking from experience, it definitely _seems_ like you've done this before.”

Nyssa rolled her eyes. “I've had sex before, Sara. What I mean is that I have never done _this_ ,” she gestured her hand between them, “before. I've had to sleep with marks. Targets. Men, women, the odd foreign dignitary. But everything I've done, I've done for the League.”

“Hm. And are sure you aren't sleeping with me for the League?”

“Never,” she whispered. “I wouldn't even deign to dream of it.”

Sara smiled, nuzzing into the crook of Nyssa's neck before kissing her. She felt Nyssa shift, and she laughed as Nyssa struggled to untangle the sheets and make space.

“You have a meeting with your shareholders, do you not?” Nyssa said, reluctantly.

She upped her game snaking her hand down to where she _knew_ Nyssa wanted her.

“Do you want me to stop?”

Nyssa whispered; “No.”

* * *

 

Thea had been following Intergang for months, monitoring their movements and patrols and rotations. She had caught one of their members a few week backs, too.

He had given her a beating, but she had learned. Learned how they fight. Learned how long it would take for his friends to arrive on scene. The kind of equipment they used. The kind of wheels, too. They relied on their cars.

Drug running.

Gun racket.

Hell, the cars themselves were contraband.

So, she couldn't take down an Intergang thug in a fist fight. Fine. There are other ways. As long as they aren't able to keep destroying the very fabric of Starling City.

She pulled the hood up over her head. The next patrol wouldn't be for ten minutes.

She could maybe manage two targets in that time. Maybe three. Not much, but better than nothing. Death by a thousand cuts. If she can keep hitting them like this?

She pulled the tire iron and carjack out from her bag, hiding in the shadows as she cranked, pulling the bolts out one by one. Nice and easy, nice and easy. What was it her father always said? Slow is smooth, smooth is fast.

Two minutes. Maybe enough time for one more car. Got to hit it if possible. Footsteps. Crap. Too soon. Just a few more cranks. It's possible. It's always possible.

A hand grabbed her by the shoulder, pulling her out of her rhythm and thoughts.

“What the hell do you think you're doing?”

Sara looked down, pulling Thea away from the cars. She had heard a “Red Hoodie” had been running around. Never in a million years would she have suspected _Thea_.

Thea unclasped her bat from her belt and gripped down with two hands, steeling herself. “Never mind me! We just got spotted.”

* * *

 

Tossing the last Intergang thug aside, Sara turned toward Thea. “That's the most idiotic thing I've seen anybody do, and believe me, I've seen some pretty dumb shit.”

“I was just trying to do my part. You're out there alone, right?” Thea wiped the blood off the bat. “The way I see it, you could use back up.”

“I don't need or want back up. I certainly don't need an untrained kid in a _sweatshirt_ watching my back.”

“You're the Canary. _You_ could train me. Come on. I can do this.”

“No.”

“I just want to help people the way you do, which, whether you like it or not, is what I've been doing ever since _you_ saved me six months ago.”

“ _No._ Ollie never would have wanted this.” The words spilled from her mouth before she could stop them. “He would never forgive me.”

“Ollie?” Of course. Who else. Of course, of all people, it had to be _her_. “Wait. You knew my brother.”

“Shit.”

Sara turned away, a weak attempt to hide her face with her hair.

Thea's gaze hardened. “Well, _Sara_ , Ollie isn't here, is he? I _know_ that this is what I'm supposed to be doing. Nothing will ever change that. So you can either help me or just leave me alone.”

Sara snatched the bat before Thea could react, breaking it over her knee. “Go home, Thea,” she said, and she leapt away, unwilling to look her in the eye.

Unwilling to look Oliver's sister in the eye.

Thea yelled at the retreating woman; “I'm rich remember?!”

* * *

 

Sara leapt across the roof, Nyssa at her heels.

“Sara,” Felicity said, buzzing in her ear. “The alarms at Sionis were tripped.”

“Do you have access to the security feeds?”

“I'm working on it. It looks like whoever tripped the alarms thought ahead to disable the feeds. I should have access in a couple of minutes.”

“Leonid--”

“--Already on it,” the man replied, in English, most likely for Felicity's benefit.She had grown on him, apparently. “I've contacted the guards. We are setting up overwatch in the area. The police also appear to be in transit.”

“Stall them. I'd like to figure out what's going on before they get there. Nyssa and I are taking the bike.” She winked at Nyssa. “Try not to break my dad's arm again. He's old.”

Planting her hands on the fire escape, Sara skipped down ladders and ledges before planting her feet on the asphalt.

“Could be nothing,” she said, as Nyssa landed beside her. “But it's been strangely quiet these days.”

“I don't mind.” Nyssa looked over pointedly. “Bike?”

The unlock tone sounded in from the alley. She swung the key around on her index finger as she flung a tarp off and away towards the wall. The cruiser glimmered.

“Oh yeah. I've got a few stashed around the city. Money buys you nice things.” She hopped on before patting the seat behind her. “You just going to stand there or are you going to get on?”

Nyssa, her hands around Sara's waist, very nearly growled as they approached the scene.

But duty calls:

The motorcycle skidded as they leapt forward toward the thugs. The thugs turned, their eyes peeking out from behind sock masks.

The small one tossed her across lot… This… It's familiar…

Nyssa narrowed her eyes as she loosed arrows into their knees, and again into their shoulders. Had she been closer, she would have witnessed, for herself, their eyes tinge with amber.

“Sara, this is going to sound weird, but I got the feed back, and it doesn't look like they took anything.

“I've seen this before. It's--”

“--We are aware of the Mirakuru drug. I injected them with pit viper venom. It should keep them subdued momentarily.” Nyssa crouched, examining the unconscious body. “We were under the impression that the Mirakuru was destroyed with the Amazo. Perhaps Waller was able to synthesize more.”

“No, this has Slade written all over it. He's toying with me.”

Leonid's voice sounded over the commlink. “Sara. I stalled them all I can. Your father is en route.”

Sirens flashed against the night sky. She heard the skid of break pads grinding against tires, and the snap of rounds snapping into the chambers of guns. Laying down smoke before they could fire, Sara pulled Nyssa towards one of the many escape routes she had hidden through the property.

When she turned, though, she caught glimpse of a girl in a red hood, arms cuffed behind her back.

* * *

 

Quentin closed the door to his office, wondering how it was he ended up with his two daughters staring him down.

“Dad, it's fine” Sara said. “Nothing was taken. Minor damage. That's it. She wasn't even the problem.”

“She's a kid, and I've already had to pull her in more than a few times. Breaking and entering is serious. At a certain point, she needs to learn that money isn't going to bail her out of every problem she gets herself into.”

“You're not her father, dad. She _is_ just a kid, and it was _my_ property. I don't want to press charges.”

“Dad,” Laurel said, quiet as she piped in. “I know the judge on call this week. He's going to want to try her as an adult.”

“The Queens are _always_ getting into trouble.”

Sara rolled her eyes “ _Dad_. She's not Ollie. And I'm right here. Alive. _Because_ of Ollie. I'm done arguing. I'm not going to press charges. Now let her go. I'll make sure she gets home.”

Quentin grumbled before motioning towards his officers, instructing them to let Thea Queen out free. Sara smiled, and with that, Quentin suddenly didn't mind. At one time, Thea Queen might have reminded him of his daughter, partying and hanging off the arms of boys. Never mind. Doesn't matter. Not with Sara back.

He watched as Sara left, guiding Thea out of the precinct.

“Why were you at Sionis?” Sara said.

“I heard it over the police radio. I figured you'd show up, and I wanted to see how you work.” Thea growled; “Look. I don't want your charity. Or a lecture.”

“So what is it you want, then?”

“To be like my brother. You said he helped people. You said he helped you, and that he tried to protect his friends. I want to be like that, too.”

Sara sighed. “You're not going to stop, are you?”

“I'm going back out tonight.”

“No, you're not.”

“You can't stop--”

“-- _You_ are going to meet me at the club tonight. I'm going to teach you how to take down someone twice your size. But remember. If I'm going to do this, you're going to have to play by my rules.” Sara shook her head. Thea was as stubborn as Ollie had been. “As pissed as Ollie would be, I bet he'd be even more pissed if I let you go out there not knowing how to protect yourself. He'd be proud of you.”

* * *

 

The room was bright; light poured in through the windows, glinting and reflecting off the surface of the ocean.

Aleka approached. “Minerva failed.”

“What is her status?” The woman, sitting at her desk, crossed her fingers.

“Dead. A League assassin.”

“Is the League aware of our plans?”

“Nothing critical. It appears Minerva slighted a personal ally of the assassin.”

“League assassins do not possess _personal allies,_ Aleka.” She poured wine into a glass, elegantly swirling the liquid. “Regardless. Our focus must remain with Slade and his masters. We cannot allow them to lay his hands upon the Magician's technology.”

“Dessa has been assigned to the task. She has informed us that Slade's men wield… great power.”

“So do we, sister.” The woman paused, softening her voice. “How is Zola?”

Zola, who had been eavesdropping as she so often does, stepped out from behind the door.

“I'm fine,” she said.

“Is the--”

“--He's fine, too. He's with your uncle.” Zola frowned, looking away. It was hard to believe she was here, now, complete with a view of the Mediterranean. “Are you sure we're doing the right thing here? Maybe we can still broker a peace.”

“I appreciate your sentiment, but you don't know him like I do. I have never been more certain that this is the correct course of action. I will not allow my family to come to harm. That includes you. And Zeke.”

“Okay,” Zola said. “I trust you.”

* * *

 

“I never understood your country's need to fry _everything_.”

Sara shrugged, placing the milkshakes on the table. “Everything tastes better that way.”

“This is more oil than potato.”

“Dip it into your milkshake.”

“I sense you mocking me,” Nyssa said.

“No, really. Try it.” Sara pushed the milkshake forward. “You said I would teach you something new, right? Here. I'm teaching you something new. Dip it.”

She watched expectantly as Nyssa dunked the fry into the thick – almost concrete – drink. Nyssa held it up, turning it a few times over.

“It's fun seeing you like this,” Sara said.

“Like what?”

“Like a normal person.”

“I _am_ a normal person.”

Sara laughed, and Nyssa knew. She'd say or do whatever necessary to hear Sara laugh. Nothing else had ever, could ever, match the adrenaline that shot through her arms in response. Her father be damned.

“Neither of us are normal,” Sara said. She popped a fry in her month. “Now stop examining it and eat.”

Nyssa tentatively placed it into her mouth. “That's… actually not bad.”

“See? Stick with me and I'll show you the world.”

Nyssa smiled back. “I suppose you have a point,” she said. “Growing up, normal was a world where only the strong survive. One without simple pleasures. I was alone and adrift. Taeera al Asfar, you have shown me kindness. It has meant everything to me.”

“Don't get all sappy on me,” Sara said, but in truth, they both knew she didn't mind. It was in the way Sara blushed, turning her head away ever so slightly. “I thought that was going to be my world forever, too. When I was on the Amazo, I used to dream about these fries. But it was like… It felt like I had been on that ship my entire life and that I would be on that ship for my entire life and it would never end. When everything ended, when I was finally free from Ivo and Waller, I thought… I thought I didn't deserve any of this. I'm glad I'm rediscovering all of this. With you.”

Nyssa sighed. “Since you appear to be in a good mood, now might be a good time to tell you. I'll be leaving tonight. I am needed in Fawcett.”

“How long?”

“A few days. It will be… a short assignment.” She looked away, crumbling a fry between her fingers. “I'd prefer not to talk about it.”

“If you don't want to talk about it because you're trying to keep the intel secure, that's fine. But don't try to keep it from me because you're trying to protect me. We share our demons, remember?”

She raised her eyebrow. “I am a killer, Sara.”

“So was I at one point. I'm not going to try and change who you are. I love you for who you are. Whoever you choose to be – whoever you want to be – is the woman I love. All I want is to know that woman.”

“It is morbid.”

Sara leaned over, dipping a fry into Nyssa's milkshake. “Okay. Let me put it this way… I tortured a man, once. I kept him on the brink of death for hours, just because I could. Hong Kong. You know what happened. He killed a friend.” Sara forced a smile, not entirely willing to remember what she had done. “Would you want me to keep that eating at me from the inside?”

“A scientist,” Nyssa finally said, relenting. “A decade ago, he had a young boy murdered. It is beyond me why, but it appears the boy had friends. The League received a contract for the man's head last week.”

“Is he dangerous?”

“Deranged. They always are.”

“Are you going alone?” She turned her tone, smiling once more. “Is your _lapdog_ coming with you?”

“He is not _my_ lapdog. He is my father's horseman. But no, he will not be accompanying me. He has business with my father.”

“You'll be careful, right?”

“Yes,” Nyssa said.

“Promise?”

“The only promise in life is death.”

“ _Nyssa_.”

“Yes. I promise.”

* * *

 

 

Sara's head throbbed. Nyssa had left the night prior. She had been walking home, and then… Shit. No weapons. Where…? She looked up.

The man, tall and strong and regal, stood over her…

“Taeera al Asfar. That _is_ what my daughter calls you, is it not?”


	8. I Want to Believe

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy mother of god that was fun. Hope you like sci-fi. :)

2008

He sauntered into the diner, tipping his fedora as he pushed open the doors, the chimes dancing against the glass.

"Did you know that there are _32_ flavors?" he said. He deadpanned every word.

"This is not ice cream." John twisted the cone as he licked. "It is a nonfat tofutti rice dreamsicle."

"Hm. Don't you think that's insufficient?" He spun on the barstool, motioning for the waitress's attention. "Mind grabbing me coke and a slice of pie? And a plate of cookies for my friend?"

"Chocolate," John said.

"So this is Middletown?"

"Yes."

"Bounty hunting going well, _John Jones_?"

"I am not a bounty hunter. I am a private detective. Perhaps the term you are searching for is 'Manhunter.'"

"'Manhunter'? Isn't that a tad old fashioned?"

"It is an acceptable term," John said. "But it is going well. What about you? Are you still asking _all_ the wrong questions?"

"Tch. Do you really think it'll be long before someone finds me at the bottom of the river?"

The waitress slid a plate over towards the detective, and she shrugged as she walked away.

"Your cookies, hun" she said. "We don't normally sell 'em so we opened up a package of oreos the cook brought for lunch. He needs to lose weight anyway."

John Jones smiled as he dunked a cookie into the dreamsicle. "It is a long way from Hub City, Vic."

"Do you have something you'd like to ask?"

"Why are you here?"

Vic reached under his overcoat, pulling the manila folder out and placing it before John. Stray drops of coffee stained the folder as he unearthed the photographs for John to see.

"Are you aware of the Kansas incident?"

"A meteorite."

"Are you really going to believe _them_?"

"You believe it was something else."

"Do these shapes look a meteorite to you?"

"This occurred five years ago. You must have known about this for a while now."

"Notice anything strange around here lately?"

John frowned, opening up an oreo, peeling the cream before popping it in his mouth. He crumbled the remainders into the dreamsicle and bit into the cone.

"Is that an affirmative?"

"You believe that the activity here is the same as the phenomenon over Smallville."

"No; composition local to this solar system; a rock based planet; perhaps Venus? Mars?"

"Speculation."

But John continued to examine the photograhs.

"One slice of pie," the waitress said. She handed Vic the pie, and the glass of soda nearly spilled as it clattered on the bar. "And this is the only flavor of coke we got."

Vic slurped the soda. "Isn't cherry the best?"


	9. The Nail

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a head's up, I'm back to work, so my updates might not roll in one a day as I've been doing so far (until now). The entire story has already been outlined and planned, updates will still be pretty frequent. Just not AS frequent.
> 
> Enjoy!

“Taeera al Asfar. That _is_ what my daughter calls you, is it not?”

“Ra's al Ghul.”

“And you are Sara Lance.” Ra's al Ghul stood motionless, his hands clasped behind his back. “We should not waste our time – or words – with trivialities.”

“What do you want with me?”

“It upsets me that my daughter must think me a fool. I should, however, be unsurprised. You have singlehandedly woven multitudes of weakness into her mind. Under my own laws, it would follow that I must punish her.”

“She's your daughter.”

“She is my _heir_. You were nothing but a test. A test she has failed. Now I must now rectify her mistakes, as any father would.” Ra's al Ghul circled his prey. “You had a choice when pursing your beloved. You had a choice when pursing my heir. You have a choice now.”

“You can threaten me all you want, but I won't leave her alone.”

“You misunderstand. I have invested a great deal of time in Nyssa, which is why I have chosen to be rather lenient in this matter. But I have time on my side. I can always create another heir. Your choice – and her next test – is as follows: break my daughter's heart or I will tear it out myself.”

“Nyssa is stronger than you think.”

Ra's al Ghul laughed. “Do you think she is the first of my children that I have disposed of? I even went to war with Talia, once. I toyed with her for a moment, but snapping her spine was no more difficult than snapping a twig between my fingers. Do not test me.” He turned his eyes down on Sara. “Or perhaps I have made a miscalculation and you do not truly love my daughter.”

“You're insane.”

“You will choose quickly or risk losing my limited patience” Ra's al Ghul said. “I will not hesitate to burn Starling to the ground in my efforts to kill Nyssa.”

* * *

 

Tara Markov narrowed her eyes, catching a glimpse of Sara Lance through the boardroom's glass doors.

“When the CEO of a major multibillion dollar company disappears for a month and a half, our stock tends to go with her,” she said.

“I'm here now, aren't I?”

“I've had eyes on you for the past four weeks. You've been out playing vigilante when you should have been here.”

“I don't have to explain myself to you,” Sara said.

“I know Anatoly gives you leeway, but there's a great deal at stake here.” Markov frowned. Sara still would not look her in the eyes. “Mercy Coast Security is making moves we'd be idiots to ignore.”

“You're smart. And my Vice President. You can figure it out.”

“Where do you think you're going?”

Sara made her way out of the boardroom, making her way towards the stairwell. “I'm getting some fresh air.”

Sara looked out over Starling City. On Lian Yu, in Hong Kong, she wanted nothing more than to come home. She had imagined every fast food joint, the old movie theaters, even the smell of the stupid oversized garbage trucks. Everything she had hated, she had missed because Starling was _home_.

But now that she was here…

The grass is always greener.

That or…

“Sara.” The voice is quiet. Gentle.

“Not you, too.”

Not talking isn't enough. Nyssa would always follow, wouldn't she? And meeting her face to face… Doubt. No, _hope_. Hope that maybe, just maybe, the two of them can figure this out together. They can take down Ra's al Ghul together. Ra's al Ghul of the League of Assassins… Ra's al Ghul, Nyssa's father…

“When I returned, I could not find you,” Nyssa said.

“Thank Waller. Among everything else, spending time in Hong Kong taught me how to cover my tracks. ARGUS still has your League on its toes, right?”

“Barely.”

“I've just been keeping on the down low. The SCPD is getting close.”

“And what of me?”

Sara sighed, guilt beginning to gather and rot in her gut. “I'm sorry. I've just had a lot on my mind.”

“We share our demons, remember? Your words.”

“…I know.”

* * *

 

“We know that some of you believe that the Canary has your best interests at heart.” Quentin adjusted the mike. “But her actions have proven otherwise. She has assaulted police officers. She has acted with little regard to the safety of others, interfering with crucial operations and investigations. Some may think that she is the savior of the Glades, but with the events of the past few weeks in mind, it is apparent that she is not. Rest assured, the SCPD can and will protect the citizens of this city. We are well trained. Professional. And we will get the job done. Even if that means apprehending the vigilante known as the Canary.

“Today, the SCPD is launching an official manhunt. Please, if you see her, do not hesitate to call 911. Do not approach her or any of her associates. I repeat, do not approach the Canary. She is to be considered armed and dangerous.

“Thank you, and always, stay safe.”

Cameras flashed as Detective Quentin Lance stepped away from the podium. Catching a glimpse of Sara, he waved with a small smile.

 

* * *

 

Sara adjusted her wig, watching as Thea fiddled with her belt. She had been doing well as of late. A little insecure, but well. She frowned when Felicity's voice crackled over through the commlink:

“Have you thought of a codename yet?”

“That's really not important,” Sara said.

“ _You_ have one,” Felicity countered.

Sara shot back, revving the bike. “Leonid doesn't.”

“Maybe he should have one, too.”

“I do not need a codename,” Leonid said, his voice rough, as always, over the comms.

“Well, we can't exactly send our _real_ names over the radio 24/7. All a part of that operational security you keep talking about, right?

“I wouldn't mind a codename.” Thea looked over at Sara. “What? We are still talking about me, right?”

“How about Robin?” Felicity said. “You know. Because you're both birds. It's a theme. We can call Leonid the Swan… National bird of Russia?”

“Ollie used to call me Speedy.”

Sirens flashed. A large hulk of a man shoved his fist into the side of a squadcar, the metal caving in around him. Sara frowned. “ _Slade_. He has his men attacking the precinct. My dad's on duty tonight. He's in there.”

“Should I call Nyssa?”

“We can handle this. We'll be fine.” Sara grabbed her bo. “You synthesized more of the pit viper venom, right?”

“Not as potent as the real stuff, but it'll still put these Mirakuru boys down on their butts.”

“See? We'll be fine.”

“But--”

“--Don't call her, Felicity.” Sara motioned to Thea. “Ready, Speedy?”

* * *

 

Taking down Slade's Mirakuru thugs was easy enough. She winced when the bullet clipped her shoulder. Her fingers tightened around her bo. Quentin. _Dad_. An arrow flew past her head, hitting the ground before exploding with smoke.

Nyssa grabbed Sara's arm once alone, wrapping the flesh wound.

“Leonid pulled Thea to safety. She is fine.” She taped the bandage down. “This will do for now, but it would be best if you administered proper aid later. And I don't mean staples.” Her hand continue to linger. “You should have contacted me.”

Say something. Say anything. Because Nyssa would always follow wouldn't she? It isn't so easy, face to face.

“I thought you were already keeping an eye on me for your dad.”

“Sara, you know that isn't true.”

Sara turned. “I know. I'm sorry, that was unfair. I just...”

“You don't have to tell me now. But when you are ready?”

“I… Yeah.”

Nyssa spoke quickly, as though Sara would disappear before she could finish; “Perhaps we can see each other later? I can help you with your arm, and it has been a while since--”

“Of course. Wouldn't miss it.” Sara gave Nyssa a small smile.“I'll see you later, all right?”

Nyssa stayed, watching as Sara leapt away.

Sara had been distant as of late.

It filled her with…

…Fear.

* * *

 

“So this is the little punk Curry sent to keep me in line.” Slade looked the teen up and down. “You're just a kid.”

Garth crossed his arms.“Those were police officers. They had no place in this fight.”

“You're weak. Concerned only because you see them now as individuals, beyond simple pawns on your little chessboard. What do you think will happen to them when your plan goes into effect? This is your war, and in war innocent people die.”

“What you're doing now is unnecessary. Your obsession with the Canary has clouded your vision.”

“ _She_ is my part of the deal. I bring the Mirakuru to the table, and you provide the men. I deliver Merlyn's technology, and I use our combined resources to get what I want. Which happens to be the Canary.”

“So you kill in the name of a grudge.”

“Pot calling the kettle black,” Slade said, sneering. “The only thing that should matter to you is that Rochev is getting close. If you're so queasy, maybe you would like to start meeting with her instead. The kiddie table _should_ be more your speed.”

“I have no desire to meet with your pet. Be careful as to how you tread.”

“Curry's word or yours?”

* * *

 

Roy Harper had found him first; the man was dressed in clothes that were clearly borrowed or taken – too big around his shoulders and waist. Roy, figuring you can't steal what's already stolen, had begun to rifle through the man's pockets. He would have left with a hefty sum, too, had the man's arm, previously limp, not shot out, gripping Roy's wrist in a vice, staining his skin with blood.

“Jesus. I thought you were dead,” Roy said. “You look like you need a hospital, man.”

His would be victim had, however, yet to release him. “No hospital. Canary. Take me to the Canary.”

“Hey, it's not like I have the freaking Canary on speed dial...”

“ _The Canary_ ,” the man said. He held a dagger to Roy's throat. “Now.”

Sin, for her part, cursed when Abercrombie dropped the near mortally wounded man in front of her feet as though he were a dog retrieving a stick.

“What the hell do you want me to do with that?” Sin said.

“I don't know.” Roy shrugged. “He said he wanted to see the Canary.”

“So you brought him to me?”

“Well, _yeah_.”

“Thanks a lot, Abercrombie. I'll take him but you owe me. Like a whole case of Soders owe me.” Sin glared at Roy's relieved expression. “Come on. Now get! Scram!”

“Don't I get to see--”

“--Still your beating heart. I said _scram_!”

No way was she going to take Roy to the rooftop. No one had been to the rooftop. Only Sin. Only the Canary. Only Team Canary. And now the random dying dude. But no Roy.

She had resented the Canary at first. Being a charity case _sucked_. They had finally come to an agreement when Sin very nearly broke the Canary's kneecaps (and the kneecaps of her guard dog) after they had attempted to swoop in and save the day.

“If you're going to keep stalking me like this, at least do something _useful_ ,” Sin had said.

And so they began meeting on the rooftop, and Sin began passing on information regarding the latest Glades resident who needed a little good on their sides.

In the beginning it had almost been like magic; Sin would visit the rooftop and eventually Team Canary would appear. It had only taken a week or two for sin to rub the sand out of her eyes.

Sin stared up into the little camera, sweat dripping down her temmples, her back sore from dragging the man's dead weight all the way up the stairs.

“Hey,” she said to the camera. “Yeah, I know you're a little busy, but I've got a _very_ messy present for you.”

Sin didn't have to wait very long for the three figures to appear; they stepped out of the shadows. Ominous. Like something out of a storybook.

“So I get the whole gang? Sidekick _and_ Mr. Russian Red Star?” Sin crossed her arms, smiling before checking the rest of the rooftop. “Where's the hot one?”

The Canary actually growled; “She was busy. What do you have for us?”

Her frowned deepened as she glanced behind Sin. The Russian turned to her.

“ _What is it?_ ” he said. “ _You recognize this one?_ ”

“ _Maybe. If I'm right, it's becoming clearer and clearer what I have to do._ ”

“This got dropped on my doorstep.” Sin gestured towards the man. He continued to grown as Sin shook him. “Hey dickweed. She's here. The Canary, just like you asked. _Now_ will you tell us your name?”

“Al Sa'him,” he whispered. “My name is Oliver Queen.”

* * *

 

The first night Nyssa and Sara had held each other, lying on this bed, Nyssa had not slept. A force of habit , she had said, and Sara could see it in her eyes, the way she had seemed to half expect a knife to appear, plunged in her back. Sara had seen it because she had known it in herself, too.

Nyssa slept now. Snored, even.

She only barely stireed as Sara lifted an alcohol wipe to her neck, carefully and delicately rubbing clean a small patch of skin that enveloped a vein. Sara flicked the glass vial.

Ivo had been the one to show her the finer etails of this particular mix. It had been the third lesson after that of the truth serum, and she could still remember Hendrick's eyes when she had missed the vein the first time. She could still remember the way, after her fifth attempt, his muscles tightened and froze until they appeared to have become petrified.

He hadn't been able to move for three days. Nyssa was strong. She would recover from the reagent sooner than Hendrick had. Sara knew that.

And Ra's al Ghul had been frighteningly clear; leave his daughter and break her heart, and perhaps Nyssa would never forgive her for this, but that was the point wasn't it?

Waller had been the one to teach her ow to _torture_. Not _interrogate_. No, _torture_. With Waller it had never been about retrieving information from the depths of the mind, or even about coercion. She had Ivo's serum for that. And perhaps, even, more brutal and wrenching and effective, she had leverage. For Waller, torture was about _pain_. Physical pain. Pain for pain's sake. But for all the torture she had endured at Waller's hands, for all the torture she had herself doled out, she wondered if this was worse. And for whom.

Both would live with this for the rest of their lives; and the thing strand of trust, only skin deep, would be lost forever.

Is this selfish?

Because though Nyssa would not die, long after the disappearance of the scar the needle would leave behind, Nyssa would feel the mark forever, and she would remember her frozen limbs and the way her mind would wander and obsess over a single vestige of a reason that could drive a woman towards abandonment. And at the very least, despite the pain, Sara would know that Nyssa lives. That she breathes. That though she hates and cries and breaks, she is alive to hate and cry and break. And perhaps it is a figment of her imagination, but at least she will always fuel that Nyssa is alive, on the same plane, connected, close…

Only Death could wrench them irreversibly apart.

Sara latched to the thought that now, more than ever, their bodies together and naked, they would _never be as close again_.

But at least she would be alive.

Sara kissed the corner of Nyssa's mouth, soothing her with one hand while breaking the skin with the other.

She did not cry as she gathered her clothes, slipping on each article one by one, prolonging the moment. Her hand hovered over the doorknob.

They had found the safehouse together, early at Nyssa's insistence that they must stay hidden from her father.

Six clicks south of Starling City. Hit the county line then veer right towards the old factory tenements, the rough little town whose main export was welfare. Two lefts. One more right. The little rundown townhouse, same as all the others, built with crumbling bricks and wooden planks in palce of windows.

But safer there than anywhere else in the world because they had made it safe.

Sara almost left the bike before remembering she could not.

Because she could not leave _her_ any hope or clutch or treasure, because she _would_ , because hope is a _weed_.

Sara ignted the engine and drove away.

Nyssa woke alone.

* * *

 

PRESENT DAY

His name had been Kent Nelson, but Ra's al Ghul had tightened the shackles around his wrists, and he had said _No_ ; “Your name is Khalid Ben-Hassin al Nabu.” He tightened the shackles yet again; “You serve the League now.” These memories, old, feel fresh.

The dungeon. No windows, no doors, no bars. Walls all around him. Surrounding. Suffocating.

Ra's al Ghul. Where is he? Where has he gone? Not here. No longer searching and clammoring and hanging on every word and prophecy of _Khalid Ben-Hassin al Nabu_. Can't breathe. Pain stemming from the illusion of hunger. From the illusion of thirst. How long can he last like this?

 _Pain_.

Reality has fractured -- engulfing the planet -- a fate denied -- titans at war -- a hero's gamble to be reborn -- lightning never strikes twice, Barry -- two souls intertwined discovering destiny -- torn apart in this world and the next and in all worlds -- a magician buried -- yet another aberration -- what will change -- can't think --

...You're right. He does look like an arrow.

 _This was not meant to occur, and it_ will _end_ , _and we_ will _all_ die.

 


	10. Project Metropolis

2012

Martha tugged on her husband's sleeve; "Jonathan! Did you see that?"

"It's just that Luthor boy again. I swear, that kid has his head stuck in the clouds."

"He was going awfully fast in that car of his."

"I'm sure he'll be fine. He probably just has somewhere to be. You know how rich folk are."

"It's just that his parents hardly pay any attention to him at all. And it's a dangerous world as of late. Didn't you hear about hose poor kids getting lost at sea? And the Wayne boys..."

"You worry too much, Martha. And you read too much into those tabloids."

"Maybe we should go back."

Jonathan remained steady at the wheel. "And do what? Take Alexander from his home and raise him ourselves? You're the one who wanted to move, remember sweetheart? Back to the city where there are more people than farms."

"I know. And I still want to go. It's just that after watching him speed off like that, I can't shake this awful feeling that we're forgetting something dreadfully important."

Lex Luthor, breathless, stumbled down into the basement of his Smallville estate. The estate that had burned down all those years ago. The estate that Lex had rebuilt with his own two hands.

"This is it, old friend," he said. "I've finally wrenched the last of the company's shares from my father's ungrateful hands. From the ashes LexCorp is born, and I am at last able to pursue what truly matters."

The sickly boy, thin and pale, peered in through the reinforced fiberglass.

Lex rolled his eyes. "Don't look at me like that. I'm taking you to Metropolis; LexCorp just signed a contract with CADMUS you might find interesting. You should be grateful." Lex sniffed. "I ran another analysis of your pod's logs. It seems a gravitational wave set your pod back six years. Which means you would have arrived fourteen years ago. Fourteen years. I was only two then, and even I can admit that my intellect was not yet sufficient enough to properly track you down. Who knows who might have found you instead. Who knows how _squandered_ you might have become."

The boy hit the glass, a dark curl falling over his eyes.

"Now now. I won't let CADMUS tear you entirely apart. Your potential abilities. Your strength. Your cells are the most efficient solar batteries I have ever seen. You represent everything the human race can become; you indicate that humans have not even come close to reaching their evolutionary pinnacle. You, my friend, represent hope. But it's also my estimation that you would transform into quite the _monster_ should you be subjected to the rays of our yellow sun. Which is why I keep you here. For your own best interests." Lex looked up from his workstation. "Believe it or not, sometimes I think that you are my only friend."


	11. Quiver

The woman stumbled, her knees buckling beneath her, the toe of her heel catching against the edge of an errant block of concrete. She mumbled as she attempted to string word after word together. To no avail. The man beside her steadied her, two firm hands gripping her arms, and he forced his face against her neck.

“Come on, baby,” he said. “Come home with me.”

“I d-don't...”

“You say that now, but I know you, baby. I know you better than you know yourself.”

Thea grabbed the boy's shoulder. A familiar face. She must have seen him at one of her mother's functions. Another rich kid with too much time on his hands. She reached around her waist before remembering that she had been out on the town in plainclothes.

“I think she wants to go home,” she said. “How about you let her?”

“You don't know what you're talking about, bitch.” He tightened his hold around the woman's arm, pulling her close. “Do I even fucking know you?”

“Let her go.”

“No way,” he said, and his eyes widened, recognition flashing through his irises. “I _do_ know you. You're Thea Queen.”

“Good job, genius,” she said. So she was right. “ _Now_ do you want to let her go? I don't think tonight's the night, buddy.”

“That's rich. Thea Queen telling someone else _not_ to have sex.”

She didn't need her baseball bat to knock the punk off his feet. His head smacked against the concrete. He whimpered as she hailed a cab, and she opened the door for the woman who smiled thankfully in response. Didn't matter how many streetlights they had out at night. Some dirtbags didn't need to hide in the shadows. Some crimes didn't need to be hidden.

Sitting at home, she flipped through the pages of the latest tabloid she had picked up at the drugstore. “That's rich,” the boy had said. “Thea Queen telling someone else _not_ to have sex.”

She found the latest laminated page featuring another version of her oversized face. And the latest version of her boytoy-of-the-month. Granted it was on purpose, but…

Still.

Lies sting.

She sighed before stumbling herself. Look down at the water. Did it…? Tastes… Sour almost… What the hell? Her knees cracked against the marble. Her vision blurred.

 _Nyssa_?

A yellow tint began to spread through her irises.

* * *

 

Felicity leaned back as she watched Oliver make his way up and down the salmon ladder. Sure, watching Sara had been plenty fun, but _this_ she particularly enjoyed. It didn't hurt that Oliver didn't have a half-crazed assassin around waiting to pounce if anyone ever even deigned to give him a sideways glance.

Not that Sara had one around anymore either, but… Still.

Sara cleared her throat as she walked by, pulling Felicity out of her thoughts. Sara walked towards Oliver.

“So she finally steps down from her perch,” he said.

“How are you holding up?”

“I've been better. But you would know that if you had said single word to me these past few weeks.”

“I've been busy.”

“Playing vigilante,” he said. “I know. You've been taking Thea along.”

“It's not exactly like I was ecstatic about it. It was either that or let her run wild.”

“Yeah.” He jumped down from the ladder, looking Sara in the eyes for the first time. “Thanks.”

“For what?”

“Helping Thea when I couldn't. For making it back home. Sarab told me what happened to you.”

“Sarab?”

“You know him as Maseo. Every time I think about it… I can't help but think that it should've been me.”

With Oliver back… She couldn't help but feel the same, too, that she should have disappeared with the Amazo. Maybe Nyssa would have found her. Maybe she would have been taken to the League. Maybe she could have lived in a world in which she and Nyssa could have lived together.

And she wouldn't have had to stab her in the back.

“How did you get away from the League?” she said, her voice tight.

“A list minute decision. Ra's al Ghul was already on the jet when I slipped away, and I...”

“So you were there. When he threatened me. When he threatened his _own daughter_.”

“And I came back to make sure that my family stays safe. I heard Slade's back.”

“He's been making moves.”

Oliver turned away, pulling on a shirt. “Whatever has been going on, I'll get out of your hair.”

“Don't be ridiculous.” Sara blocked Oliver's path. “We'll get through this together. Like last time.”

“Last time I watched you die.”

“I watched you die, too. Neither of us did.”

Sara watched as Oliver wordlessly began to set up a heavy bag in the corner of the basement, relenting. Felicity let out a breath she hadn't even known she had been holding. Sara stood behind the bag, holding it in place as Oliver wrapped his wrists. She kept the bag steady, bracing for every one of Oliver's hits.

She gripped the bag tightly. “Do you know if Nyssa…?”

“The way I hear it, she stumbled into one of our safe houses in Hub City. As far as I know, she's back at Nanda Parbat.”

“So she's safe?”

“You still care about her.”

“ _Ollie_. Is she safe?”

Felicity stood, sending her chair clattering against the ground. The computer screens around her flickered with a cornucopia of information. She trembled, ever so slightly, as she addressed her colleagues:

“Guys? It's Thea. She's in the hospital.”

* * *

 

Sara stood alone, pacing behind the hospital's dumpsters. She stopped as she stared up into the rafters.

“I know you're there,” she called. “Why did you poison Thea?”

The silk flowed down like water, and Nyssa, Heir to the Demon, spun as she dropped to the ground. Deadly and graceful. Alive. The blade of her dagger flashed in her hand. Tense.

“She only received a finger's worth. Hardly worth fretting over. I am here to bring Al Sa'him home.”

“Oliver's not going anywhere.”

“Why?” Nyssa said as she sneered. “Do you want to keep your boyfriend close?”

“He's not my...” Sara felt her chest clench as she caught herself. She battled her own words, words that railed and battered and screamed to be let out. “Is that the real reason you're here?”

“Yes.” Nyssa fought her own battles, too; she approached quickly before grasping at Sara's sides, kissing her with a ferocity that could not hope to be restrained. “No,” she breathed.

Sara pulled away, her voice trembling. “Nyssa. Stop this.”

“Whatever has been happening to you, I can protect us. I can protect _you_ whereas your _boyfriend_ has continually _failed_. I always have protected you, have I not?”

 _She still trusts you._ _She still loves you_.

Sara moved a strand of Nyssa's hair behind her ear. “Hey. I wasn't with you because you protected me. I was with you because I loved you.”

“Loved?”

Nyssa stumbled back, and she titled her head up and away, balancing her tears atop her eyes.

Her voice cooled and steadied. “I will allow you one night to say your goodbyes to Al Sa'him and to allow him to say his goodbyes to his family. He has been a good soldier and I realize that goodbyes are never.” Nyssa cocked her eyebrow. “Is that why I didn't get one?”

“Nyssa...”

“You have made yourself clear, Sara. Release Oliver into League custody or I will proceed to act as a member of the League should.” When she turned, meeting Sara's gaze once more, her eyes were almost… sad. “By protecting Al Sa'him, you have incurred the wrath of my father. Unless you release him, the Head of the Demon will come for you, too. One way or another.”

* * *

 

Oliver stepped into the hospital room through the shadows, startling Thea only slightly. He pulled a chair up beside his sister.

“Thea, I'm sorry. I would've come earlier...”

“But you don't want Mom to find out that you're, you know, alive and kicking.”

“We've been over this.”

“Don't worry, Ollie. I get it. With Slade out there it's better if he thinks you're dead. You could be our trump card.”

“Don't joke. He's going to come after you. He's insane.”

“Like the League did?”

Ollie grimaced. “I wanted to come home, believe me. But they saved me, and they gave me a purpose.”

“And now?”

“I've always needed a purpose. Now I need the right one.” [] “You've found one, too. I've been eavesdropping on the comms whenever Felicity isn't paying attention. You're calling yourself Speedy, now?”

“I wanted to be like my big brother.”

“I know I haven't been...” Oliver paused. “I know I haven't been supportive of what you're doing out there. I just want you to be safe, and I guess it just reminded me that I haven't been… that I can't protect you anymore.”

“Like I said, Ollie, you're my big brother. You've always protected me, whether you've known it or not.”

He grabbed his sister's hand. He was finally home.

“Maybe when you get better,” he said, “we can spar.”

* * *

 

Nyssa's voice came to life in their ear. “I know you are all connected. I know you can all hear me through your little system. An impressive technology, but it did not take me long to crack. You forget that I, too, once had access. I have Moira Queen.”

Felicity was a fury as she attacked the keyboard.

“I know, I know,” she said in fast words. She held a hand over her mike as she spoke to Sara. “I'll get a bead on her location in no time.”

In the hospital, Oliver stood, frightening Thea. “You shouldn't have taken her. Let her go.”

“You know what I require, Al Sah'im. You know where I am located, and you also know that I will not unnecessarily harm your mother. Come alone and I will release her. Your duty requires that you return to the League, Al Sa'him.”

Sara grabbed her mask. “ _Oliver_. Don't do anything stupid. We'll handle this together.”

“This is my problem, Sara. _You've already made your bed_. This is _my_ fight, now.”

Thea watched as Oliver grabbed an outfit out of his pack. Green. A hood. A cowl.

“You just carry that around with you?”

“Just in case,” Oliver whispered. “Look. Mom's been taken. I'm getting her back. I know you want to help but...”

“...I know. How can I help if I can't get out of bed.” Thea grabbed Oliver's hand. “Both of you get back safe, all right?”

Oliver pulled the green hood over his head. Just like Shado.

He had a purpose now.

* * *

 

Garth felt the sweat pool in the creases of his palms as he gripped the telephone receiver. “I thought they were at odds with the League? Wasn't Barbara Minerva killed by one of their assassins?”

Curry was distant at the other end. “By the Heir to the Demon herself. I suspect she wasn't acting in the name of League business. To be clear, they haven't _allied_ with the League, but they have their eyes set on something – or someone – they have.”

“Can we have our own assets infiltrate the League?”

“As much as it pains me to say it,” Curry said, “our assets don't possess the same talents our enemies do. The League has a habit of breaking their inductees to their will. While we remain technologically superior to our enemies, they are agents of truth. They are not so easily broken.”

“Then what do you propose?”

“The Magician's machines are still key. We'll simply expand the blast radius to include Nanda Parbat and beyond.”

“That's nearly thrice the original radius.”

“This is _war_ , Garth. You _know_ what they've done and what they're capable of. You've _seen_ the ring she wears on her finger. They cannot know that we suspect their plan.”

“And do innocent people have a place in our war?”

“She killed what I hold most dear. If I had a heart before, it was ripped from my chest on that day.” [] “But do what you must, Garth. No matter what happens, I will always be proud of you.”

Hanging up, he watched as Slade ran a finger down Rochev's cheek.

Garth walked out the door.

* * *

 

Oliver's voice echoed through the room, modulated and gruff; “I am Al Sa'him, and I submit to League justice.”

“Very well,” Nyssa said, and she cut the ties the had bound Moira Queen. “A deal is a deal.”

Oliver breathed a sigh of relief as he watched his mother make his escape. At least she was safe. At least Thea would be safe.

Nyssa motioned towards the exit, and he might have followed her out and away if the Canary had not crashed through the window, landing feet first between Oliver and Nyssa, standing in a field of broken glass.

“He's not going with you,” Sara said.

Oliver loosed his arrows, the sharp tips stopping short, Nyssa's scarf catching them all with ease. She loosed her arrows, too, all towards Oliver, and he rolled, the arrows clattering against the concrete in his wake.

Sara winced as she swept Nyssa's legs out from under her, preventing her from sending any more arrows towards Oliver.

She leapt away regardless, continuing her onslaught on the man garbed in green.

A whirl of chaos. Blow after blow.

Oliver after Nyssa. Nyssa after Oliver.

Sara attempting in vain to protect Oliver. Sara attempting in secret to protect Nyssa.

A whirl of chaos. Oliver's elbow caught Sara, sending her careening away from the fight. Her head struck concrete. Attempting to regain her bearings, she watched as Oliver and Nyssa grappled above.

She watched as Nyssa stumbled. She watched as Nyssa faltered. She watched as Nyssa left openings she _knew_ Nyssa would _never_ leave open.

Not unless… Get up there. You have to get up there. Before he… Before she...

“Ollie, don't! Please. Please don't kill her.”

The fingers holding the bowstring taut trembled. The tip of his arrow trembled, too. “You can't trust her!”

“Then trust _me._ ”

The bowstring relaxed before stepping back, his brow knit tight as he ran back out towards the door. Nyssa stumbled as she rose to her feet. She moved to Sara with little thought, checking the wound that had begun to blossom on her forehead. Sara gently guided Nyssa's hands down back to her sides.

“If… if you want me to be happy,” Sara said, “you'll let me go. You'll stay alive and forget all about me. Please. Do you understand?”

“My father will have your head for protecting him. This will not end here.”

“I know.” She embraced her. Held her tight. Like she had wanted to all that time. All the while she remained aware of the knife clipped to Nyssa's waist. She whispered, relief finally flowing through her; “Do what you need to do.”

“Al Sa'him… Oliver…. He makes you happy?” Nyssa said, and Sara could feel her swallow, catching the terrible implication of Sara's words.

“Yes,” she said. The lie was sour on her tongue.

Nyssa shoved Sara back. “I only wanted you to be happy,” she said in a voice that broke Sara's heart all over again. “That is all I want for you, Taeera al Asfar.”

* * *

 

PRESENT DAY

“Iris?”

“Did you know my dad?”

Barry almost forgets that she isn't the same Iris. This isn't the same world. This is _nothing_ but a _cruel bastardization_ of the world that Thawne created.

“Yeah. A long time ago,” Barry says. “It almost feels like it was… an entire lifetime ago. I'm Barry. Barry Allen?”

“Barry? Wait. You lived next door when I was a kid.” Iris shoots Barry a small wry smile. “You had a crush on me.”

“I guess I did, didn't I?” he says. “What have… What have you been up to since then?”

“My dad and I moved to Coast City.”

He _remembers_. How is it possible that _he can remember?_

“It was nice at first,” Iris continues, “but I missed Central City. I came back for school. That was before… Before the… My dad stayed and that's why he...”

She covers her mouth with her hand and she starts to tremble and Barry is about to reach out and hold his best friend who's not really his best friend – not anymore – but suddenly, he's already too late. A slender arm embraces Iris from behind.

“Patty?” he says.

“Uh how did you know my name?”

“You just… You just look like a Patty.”

“It was good seeing you again,” Iris says, interrupting. She turns to Patty. “Let's go.”

They leave Barry behind, side by side, shoulders brushing ever so slightly. Their backs already turned, they don't notice as Jay Garrick leaps out from behind a tree, pushing Barry Allen out of the line of fire. They don't notice a man, a man garbed in black, shivering with blue lightening, standing over the pair.

They're long gone by then.

“Who was that?” Patty says.

“Just an old friend from way way back when.” She pushes her hand towards Patty. “A blast from the past.”

“Should I be jealous?”

“Never.”

Their hands meet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oof. Well that's a kicker, ain't it? Don't worry; I have plans so just bear with me. Everything I lay out is (mostly) for a reason.
> 
> That being said, as a longtime avid DC fan, I will always pull for Barry and Iris. The Multiverse really likes to kick us in the nuts though so I had to find an alternative here. Patty was one of the only Flash characters I hadn't used yet so shazam! I felt like I needed to put a little aside here because, despite all the other elseworld shenanigans, this is probably the most canonically divergent thing (regarding the comic-verse and the TV-verse) I've written so far.


	12. Seventeen Fishsticks

2009

Hey, little man. Your mom tells me you haven't been getting sleep. You know you need your eight hours before school.

You miss the stories, huh? Tell you what. How about I tell you one every time I call. You can write it down and at night, before bed, you can read it out loud, and it'll be like I'm right there with you. Sound good?

All right. Here we go... Let's see... Once, there was a crook, and boy was he some kind of crook. Was he as good as I was? Well listen here, kiddo. There isn't nothing good about being a crook. But this crook didn't know that then; he'd been alone for a real long time and he really didn't know any other way. He was a safecracker, went by the name of Eel, and boy was he the best at what he did. He thought he had the world by its sack, yes he did. He was good at his job and he had his best mates to boot.

Well, one day his mates come up to him, and they say they got this heist planned at the chemical plant, and there isn't nobody else who can crack those safes. Eel's chomping at the bit to get out in the field, and by golly he's always wanted to break into that plant. The job goes right according to plan. Eel and his mates are about to get off with a large sum o' cash.

But what did I tell you? There isn't nothing good about being a crook, and one day, if you _ever_ decide to go down that path, you can be sure that you'll get yours.

There was a night watchman, see. He wasn't part of the plan, and he caught Eel and his mates by surprise. Woosh! The gang makes their escape!

But do they get out in time?

Ratatatat. The night watchman pulls out his gun! He lets loose! He clips Eel square in the shoulder!

No, little man. Don't worry; Eel doesn't die. But I tell you what, his so-called mates didn't seem to care as much as you do. They left him high and dry in the plant. What I say? That's right. There isn't nothing good about being a crook.

That isn't the end of the story, though, kid. He gets doused with chemicals first, and poof! Wouldn't you know it! He gets himself a set of _superpowers._ What powers? Well, he became like _plastic_. No, kiddo, it isn't a dumb power. See, he could stretch as far as the eye can see. Heck, he could even become anything he wanted.

Now, Eel could have kept on going as a crook, sure. He knew that with his new powers, he'd be even better than before. But he knew how close he came to dying, and he heard he had a family out there in the world, a son. And when he found his family... Well, he realized that he ought to become a hero and make the world a better place. A happier place. A place where his son would be safe and could laugh at his jokes over dinner. He saved the world, kid, more times than I can count. And among heroes, he found he even better mates who stuck by him to the end. A man of steel. A woman of wonder. A detective with pointy ears.

But do you want to know who the real hero is?

His kid. The one who reminded him how a man ought to be. So, don't you forget it. You think you'll be able to get to sleep now? Good. I love you, little man, and you make sure you tell your mom I love her too.

I'll be home soon.

* * *

 

"Hey O'Brian! You aren't the only one with a phone call to make!"

"Cool your jets, Mahkent. I'm done. Don't get your icicle in a twist."

"I'm just peeved that you seemed to think that you could just take your time. This is Belle Reve, you know. This ain't the Shangri-La."

"Take it easy, take it easy. How abouts I tell you the joke my kid told me?" He smiled as a few of the other inmates turned their heads. "Why did the absurdist cross the road?"


	13. Knightfall

PRESENT DAY

He shivers and vibrates and crackles with blue energy, lightning spilling from his suit. His cowl, black as a midnight on a moonless night, is blank as the eyes stare down on Barry and Jay, his visage like that of a ghoul.

The ghoul tosses Jay across the cemetery. “Pathetic. The Flash does not cower.”

“He's not the Flash,” Barry says, and he stands, facing Zoom down.

“No. He is not. But you are.”

“How did--”

“I am from your world, Barry Allen. I am from your time. I know _everything_.”

“You did this!”

His skin continues to cackle with blue. “Patience. In due time, you will make this right. For now, you remain a disappointment. Too slow. Not fast enough. Time to speed things along.”

Barry braces himself, waiting for Zoom to reach down and grab him through the chest…

 _Bullets_.

The gunpowder behind the slugs explode as they leave the chamber, spinning and cutting through the air. Towards Zoom. Stupid. Zoom catches the bullets in his palm as though they were nothing more than dimwitted flies. He shifts his gaze towards the offender:

Eddie shouts, his gun still trained on the black ghoul; “Barry! Get down!”

He'll do nothing of the sort. Of course, he'll do nothing of the sort. He's the _Flash_. He's a _hero_. He can _save everybody_.

Zoom thrusts his hand into Eddie Thawne's chest.

* * *

 

THIRTY-SIX HOURS BEFORE THE FALL

Sara's fingers ached. Her fingers gripped the rock and hung off a ledge that protruded no more than half an inch from the cliff face. Her legs dangled beneath her, swinging and struggling to find purchase against the rock. An anchor. Anything.

Her fingers could slip now; it would only take a fragment of an inch.

She'd careen down the cliff, and she would meet her end below.

Quick. Easy. And it would only take a fragment of an inch.

Maybe she deserved this. After everything she's done… Is this her punishment? Maybe she was supposed to have died on the Gambit. Or maybe the Amazo. Or Lian Yu. Or Hong Kong. Sara could barely keep track of the number of times she had nearly died.

She would have never stabbed Nyssa in the back.

She would never have met Nyssa at all.

 _She would never have met Nyssa at all_.

What would Nyssa have said? Do not fall. Falling is easy. Falling is weak. You are not one to take the easy way out, Taeera al Asfar.

Even after everything, Nyssa's voice continued to echo and beat against her ear canals.

Sara twisted her legs, digging her toe into a crevice. Throwing her weight into her legs, she lifted herself two feet higher up the wall. Her fingers found another ledge.

* * *

 

EIGHTY HOURS BEFORE THE FALL

“What is this?” Sara's eyes flitted over the wall of assassins… No Nyssa…

Ra's al Ghul stood over her once more, his hands clasped behind his back. “Do not fret. I have honor, and you have my word that I will not kill you here. It appears my daughter continues to harbor a vestige of weakness for you. She implored that I give you one last chance to deliver Al Sa'him.” He raised an eyebrow. “What? Did you really think that I would let Al Sa'him be? I have already released one member from his oath, and Starling City has already paid the price for that mistake.”

“I won't give you Oliver. He's not Merlyn. He never will be.”

“You've exhausted my patience, Taeera al Asfar. In civilizations past, when someone was accused of treason, the League would kill fifty people a day until the criminal was rooted out. Deliver the traitor. You have twenty four hours or the citizens of Starling will see what the League is truly capable of.”

“You're going to slaughter innocent people?”

“The cleansing of Starling City will fall to Sarab.”

Sarab lifted his mask, and Sara found herself once again looking into the eyes of an old friend. Maseo.

Ra's al Ghul continued. “Deliver the traitor or blood will flow in your streets.”

The assassins, along with their masters, disappeared before Sara could even blink.

* * *

 

TWENTY-EIGHT HOURS BEFORE THE FALL

Sara clipped the tent to the face of the wall before huddling between the thin walls. The tent shuddered and shook, dangling precariously from a carabiner that she had hammered into the rock.

“What now?” she found herself saying.

“Keep fighting,” she heard Nyssa say.

“Why?”

“Because it is within your soul to do so.”

“I'm sorry,” she said, and alone, dangling hundreds of feet above the ground, she gathered enough peace within herself to allow tears to fall. “I'm sorry for hurting you.”

“You look different,” she heard Nyssa say.

“I'm still me,” she whispered back, and the words are familiar.

“The Sara I know wouldn't have betrayed us and fled Nanda Parbat under the cover of darkness.”

“What… What are you talking about? That didn't happen… I've never been to…”

“Come home,” Nyssa continued; her voice pleaded and ached.

“But I can't,” she said. The cold seeped into her head and she cradled herself for warmth. “I can't go back, Nyssa. I don't have much of a soul left in me.”

“You swore an oath. My father never released anyone from the League.”

“I was with you because I loved you,” Sara repeated. “I love you.”

* * *

 

FIFTY-SIX HOURS BEFORE THE FALL

Maseo – no, _Sarab –_ greeted her at the door. She followed him back into the building, eyes set with resolute resignation.

Ra's al Ghul's voice boomed; “You come without Al Sa'him. Do you think me a fool? Or are you the one plagued with foolishness?”

“No. Far from it on both accounts. I know enough to know that this isn't only about Oliver. This is about me, too. You still think that Nyssa is weak because of me. You think she failed your test.”

Ra's al Ghul ignored the Canary. “ _You_ failed to protect the city you love. Now you'll watch it bleed.”

“Nobody in my city will die tonight.” Sara stood, defiant against the Head of the Demon.

“Oh? There was only one way to prevent that. You were to produce for me the traitor, not only for the sake of the League but for the sake of the city. Or have you already forgotten the tragedy wrought by Malcolm Merlyn?”

“You're wrong,” Sara said. “Giving you Oliver wasn't the only way to end this. _All_ of this.” She braced herself, wondering for a moment if the Head of the Demon could read minds… Or smell lies. “I stand before you as Al Sa'him's beloved. By League law, I have a right to challenge you, on his behalf and as his champion, to a trial by combat.”

“It has been sixty-seven years since someone last challenged me. You covet death that much?”

“ _Yes_. And if I die, you'll leave Oliver and Starling City alone. Oliver will be alive but broken by the death of the woman he loves. He will no longer be a threat. But more importantly… Nyssa… Your heir will be purged of her weakness.”

“And if, should hell freeze over, you win?”

“Then you'll know Nyssa harbors no weakness.”

“Very well. I agree to your terms.” Ra's al Ghul motioned towards Sarab.

He pulled her aside, away from Ra's al Ghul's ear. “I see the years have done little to dull your stubbornness. I see now that you have much in common with Al Sa'him. And the Heir.”

“You went to Nanda Parbat after Akio… What happened to Tatsu?”

“Enough. Maseo is dead. His memories have died with him.” He looked her over. “Under our code you will be given sufficient time to settle your affairs. You will then show yourself at this location.” He handed her the coordinates. “This location is consecrated ground for the League. A place for the settlement of blood debts if one survives the climb.”

“I'll see you on the mountain.”

“I have no desire to watch you die, Sara. Prepare yourself.”

* * *

 

SEVEN HOURS BEFORE THE FALL

Through the swirling snow and wind, Sara could very nearly see the top of the cliff. So close. So very close. Sara found her rhythm. Left foot against the toe hold. Right foot against another. Push up. Grab the ledge. Wash. Rinse. Repeat. Left foot against the toe hold…

Nyssa whispered into her ear, her words mixing with the whistling winds; “Keep fighting,” she said. “Have faith.”

Ra's al Ghul would die today. Sara would kill him.

And maybe then… Maybe finally then…

All of this _madness_ could end.

Oliver would be free from the League. He'd take down Slade Wilson. He'd be the hero he was always meant to be, and Nyssa… She'd be free, too. No more threats. No more death. No more Ra's al Ghul. Ra's al Ghul would _fall_ , and she would tell Nyssa the _truth_ and hope, with all her heart, that Nyssa would find it within herself to forgive her.

Keep fighting. Move forward. Have faith. Everything is going to be okay.

Everything is going to be okay.

Left foot against the toe hold. Right foot against another. Push up. Grab the ledge. Wash. Rinse. Repeat.

* * *

 

FIFTY-TWO HOURS BEFORE THE FALL

Felicity stared over from her workstation. Oliver crossed his arms. Thea stood beside him. Leonid, for his part, helped Sara pack.

“You can't be serious,” Thea said, finally.

“I have to do this.”

Oliver stepped forward. “No. You don't. Because I can go. This isn't even your fight. They're here for _me_.”

“I've already challenged Ra's al Ghul. There's nothing you can do now.”

“You know that isn't true.”

“ _You're just a proxy, Oliver_. Two birds with one stone.” Sara stashed weapons into her pack. Leonid handed her a coiled line. “It doesn't matter. Ra's al Ghul isn't our only problem. You already know that Slade Wilson is back in town.”

“Which is why we need you. Me? I can beat him. I have League training. I know how he fights.”

“So he knows how _you_ fight, too. I'm the better shot here, and we both know it. _You_ know Slade better than anyone else alive. He's planning something big, and it's up to you to stop it.”

“They threatened my family, Sara.”

“So is Slade. My life substituted for yours. Even if I die, he agreed to let you go under the condition that you don't break League laws. You're just a proxy, remember? My heart hasn't been in this, Ollie. Not for a long time. But you… You were always meant to be a hero.”

Oliver restrained himself, his arms itching and aching to sweep the equipment off the table and send it all clattering to the ground. He walked away, instead, his arms tense and his shoulders tight.

Leonid handed Sara a dagger. She tucked it into the underside of the pack.

“Do not underestimate him,” he said.

“You worry too much, Leonid.” She turned away, whispering. “You know that I'm not doing this just for Ollie. Or even for Starling. I'm being selfish.”

“You do not need to explain yourself to me,” Leonid said. “Anatoly may be a different matter. What should I tell him?”

“You'll tell him that I appointed you my successor.”

“Markov...”

“Markov won't have a problem with it.” She tested the pack on her back, tightening the straps.. “You've been a good friend. You'll keep my family safe?”

“ _I will. Until your return._ ” He stepped aside. “I believe the little one wishes to speak to you.”

Thea smiled, giving Leonid a short nod. She took over for Leonid, handing Sara the odd piece of gear, and she watched as Sara wordlessly accepted.

“You have to kill him,” she said.

“I know.”

“If you don't, he'll kill you.”

“I know.”

“You have to come back.”

“Don't worry, Thea. Everything's going to be fine.”

* * *

 

ZERO HOUR

“Choose your weapon,” Sarab said.

She caught a glimpse, over his shoulder, of Nyssa. She forced her eyes away from the heir as her hands gravitated towards a pair of twin blades.

Ra's al Ghul spoke; “I was eleven years old when I killed my first man. And I remember the look on his face when the light went out behind his eyes. Such a sudden change. Almost imperceptible between life and death.”

Nyssa pulled the cloak from her father's shoulders.

“I felt ashamed,” Ra's al Ghul continued. “I'd stolen from that man the most precious gift of all. Life. But I also felt something else. Pride. Because I had taken up arms against someone who sought to do ill against my family. I realized what I had done was necessary. You see, I had replaced evil with death, and that is what the League exists to do. I have killed several thousand more men since then. The world is better off for it.”

“Are you done with your speech? Or would you like to hear yourself talk some more?”

“Joke now, if you must. You have lived your last day.”

Nyssa walked past, and Sara could almost detect an imperceptible tremble in her shoulders. They were close enough to touch. To hold one another. To whisper. To speak every word and thought that had been left unsaid between them.

They did not.

“Fight me, girl,” Ra's al Ghul said.

He struck first, beating his arms against Sara with swift and calculated strikes. Sara swung her swords, her muscles straining as she met nothing but air.

Nyssa gripped her father's cloak tight as she watched him twist Sara's arm. Her nails dug into her palms as she watched him disarm her, kicking her into the snow. Metal skidded against metal, slid and clashed. Strike, parry, duck. Strike, parry, duck.

Strike, parry…

Her father's sword came down hard on Sara's arm opening a gash, spilling blood. Nyssa felt the toe of her boot step forward.

Sara forged on, determination etched into her features, her muscles tempered and quenched with sweat.

Ra's al Ghul's sword found Sara at her throat, aimed at her jugular.

Nyssa felt her foot slide forward once more.

“You should take pride,” Ra's al Ghul said, and he walked forth, forcing Sara towards the edge of the cliff. “You survived longer than most.”

Pride swelled in Nyssa as she watched Sara continue to fight back – _she would_ always _fight back_. She found her lips twitching, curling up; Sara caught him off guard, striking him square in the face, _landing a blow_. Sara lifted her sword, swinging hard against the Head of the Demon, again and again and…

A strike against her throat.

A sword against her side.

Sara fell to her knees. Nyssa tossed the cloak, the soles of her feet slipping and skidding through the slippery snow.

“Death comes for us all,” said Ra's al Ghul. “We can only evade it for so long. Consider this an honorable exit.”

“No!”

Nyssa's voice rang across the clearing, strong and loud as though she had hoped that her voice would stop the trajectory of her father's blade into Sara's torso. She caught Sara before she could fall, and she held her hand over the wound.

“I-I'm sorry,” Sara said. “I thought I could...”

“You don't need to say anything,” Nyssa said. Behind her she could hear her father recite the prayer in dull tones:

“ _Forgive and have mercy upon her. Excuse her and pardon her._ ”

Sara sputtered, attempting to speak regardless; “You can't… You won't do anything stupid, right? P-promise?”

“Sara, please. You don't need to go anywhere.”

“I-it's okay. H-he's telling me s-something… This w-wasn't supposed to h-happen. I'll c-come home with you, this time. I w-won't leave this time… under the c-cover of darkness…”

“ _Make honorable her reception. Protect her from the punishment of the grave...._ ”

“I release you,” Sara said.

“… _And the torment of the fire._ ”

Nyssa screamed as her father's boot met Sara's shoulder. She screamed as she watched Taeera al Asfar fall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, please please bear with me. All will be well. Eventually.


	14. Gods Among Us

2014

She embraced the Arthur before addressing her daughter; "You may now address the assembly, Diana."

"The adventure that led me to this moment was impetuous, I admit," Diana said. "But I beilieve it has opened up new possibilities for both our families. Because the world is young and volatile. It is our duty to save this planet from itself."

"We can offer the world benevolent leadership," Arthur continued, "and we propose we achieve this by forging the union of our dynasties through marriage." He brought Diana's hand to his own. "It is fortunate that we have also found love with each other."

"I love you, too. Shall we finalize this union?"

"I'd like to wait for Garth, if you don't mind. These past years, he's been like a son to me."

"Of course. We're about to change the world. What's a few minutes?"

"You're too kind. It's a wonder that our families have been at odds for so long."

"I only wish--"

But Diana never finished; instead she watched as the knife, the fateful knife, spun through the air before sinking into her mother's chest. She held her mother in her arms, her fingers circling the wound. Aleka tightened her fist at her side.  _You missed_ ,  _you fool_ _; Diana yet lives_.

Arthur yelled into the crowd; "What is the meaning of this?"

"I know this blade," Diana said, quiet. She ran her bloody palm against the handle of the knife. "It was given to Garth as a gift."

Arthur Curry shook his head; "Impossible. Garth would never--"

"--The blade belongs to Garth," she yelled, facing the assembly. She turned to Arthur. "Your protege killed my mother. Arthur, if you love me..."

_We do not bleed; We are Gods and we have come to save the world._


	15. Rebirth

PRESENT DAY

“Barry, stop.” Caitlin calls out to Barry from behind the glass, and she watches as he pounds his legs against the treadmill. “You said it yourself. You don't have the Speed Force in your system anymore. You're not going to get faster.”

Jumping off, he hits the glass. “Then tell me _what I'm supposed to do_.”

“Barry, I...”

“No,” he says, and his voice is quieter, now. “I'm sorry. It's just that I couldn't save Eddie. _Again_. I'm supposed to be this… superhero. But Eddie… He saved the day in the end, and he saved me and Jay. He never needed powers to be a hero. He just always… was.”

“It's not your fault.”

“I know it isn't _directly_ my fault, but that's part of being a hero, right? Responsibility? I'm capable of doing so much more. It isn't right if I sit by and do nothing.” He walks with Caitlin into the lab. “Cisco. How's the search going for Zoom?”

“Well, blue lightening isn't exactly the easiest thing to reliably search, but you are looking at a Class-A genius here. This guy has been _everywhere_. We have sightings as far as Europe. And Asia. A couple sightings in Starling City, too.”

“It just doesn't make sense,” Barry says.

“Don't see why not.” Jay crosses his arms. “You said he made your life miserable, that he sent metahumans to kill you. Isn't that what he's trying to do now?”

“No, he was trying to make me faster, and we always thought that it was so he could steal my speed, but this… Why would he create a timeline where I've _lost_ my speed entirely?”

* * *

 

“Mrs. Queen? Is everything okay?” The voice emerged from the next room over.

“Yes.” Moira guided a reluctant Thea out of the foyer. “My daughter just dropped by. Thea, I'd like you to meet Slade Wilson. He works with Ms. Rochev.”

“Mr. Wilson,” she said, suddenly conscious of the small knife she kept strapped to her ankle.

Leonid spoke over the commlink. “Be very careful. He is not aware of who you are. He only knows that you are the sister of Oliver Queen.”

“It's very nice to meet you,” she continued.

“It's my pleasure,” Slade replied. “I've heard such wonderful things about you.”

Moira interjected; “Now, Mr. Wilson. I believe we were on the subject of family before I so rudely stepped away. Are you married? Do you have any children?”

“Sadly, neither.”

“Well, there must be someone special in your life,” Moira said.

“There was. But she passed away a few years ago.”

“My mother and I have had to deal a lot of loss,” Thea said, ignoring the warnings that had begun to squawk in her ear.

“Thea,” Slade said, standing. “I heard you that your family has an affinity for the fine arts.”

“My father amassed quite the collection of 19th century landscapes,” Thea said. She nearly grimaced as she followed her mother into the gallery. “Senior year, I was obsessed with art. My teacher made me bring my entire art history class over here to show our pieces. It was exactly as mortifying as it sounds.”

“Oh I'm sure it isn't,” Slade said. “You're a very lucky girl to have known such privilege.”

Thea turned to her mother, catching, out of the corner of her eye, a figure in the shadowes. “Mom, I'm sure Mr. Wilson would love to see 'The Promise.' We have it up in storage, don't we?”

“You know what? You're right. The piece is far too exquisite to keep hidden away; we should have hung it up years ago. I'll go get it.”

“I was a friend of your brother's,” Slade said, almost sneering. “He was quite the individual.”

Speaking of...

Oliver stepped forward. “Get away from my family. Thea, why don't you make sure that Mom doesn't get hurt coming back down from the attic.”

“Ollie...”

“Trust me on this, Thea.”

Slade observed, amused. “So you're alive. I shouldn't be surprised. Although your precious mother doesn't know that, doesshe? You two are keeping quite a few secrets.” Slade laughed. “You always did have a knack for getting yourself out of sticky situations.”

“I don't want to hurt you, Slade.”

“Not yet, kid. You've already hurt me plenty. There isn't much more you can do. I, however, can do plenty.” He tossed Oliver a vial. Mirakuru.

“What the hell is this?”

“A gift,” he said.

“You're my brother, Slade. I never stopped believing that, and I don't think you have either.” Oliver felt the vial shake in his hand, ready to toss it aside.. “It's the drug, Slade. It made you strong, but it's making you sick, too. If you let us we can help make your better.”

Slade laughed again, heavily and deeply from his diaphragm now.“Oh, but I don't want to get better! It does so much more than make you strong, kid. It makes the _pain_ go away. I still see her, Oliver. Every day.”

“And you think all this is what Shado actually would have wanted?”

“Oliver, _you don't understand_. We're waiting for you to join us. Both of us are. All you need to do is…” He mock injected himself. “Try not to lose that. I believe you may be needing it soon.”

* * *

 

She breathed, her lungs filling with sharp air.

Sara lifted herself from the bed before moving towards the sound of mortar and pestle. Tatsu. And Maseo. Sarab? Doesn't matter. Have to get back to Nanda Parbat. Have to get back to _her_. Didn't she? She hadn't killed Ra's al Ghul… If he thinks she's dead… If Nyssa thinks she's dead…

Tatsu stopped her before forcing the medicine down her throat.

“You saved my life,” Sara said. “Did you know Maseo would bring me here?”

“He was the one who told me to meet you in this cabin.”

Maseo grabbed her and guided her to the chair before she could protest. “You are in no condition to stand.”

“I'm glad you stayed,” she said.

“Then you will be disappointed. When the storm passes I'll be returning to Nanda Parbat.”

“Maseo--”

“--You cannot convince me to stay.”

“I know. That's not what I was going to say. When you return to Nanda Parbat, I need you to make sure that Nyssa is safe.”

“Don't waste your breath or worries on the Heir of the Demon. She can take care of herself. Your concern should be for your home, and what might occur within it due to your absence.”

“ _Sarab_ , please. I owe you my life, but none of that means anything if she dies.”

“I thought you loved Al Sa'him.”

“So I lied. Bad habit.” Sara groaned, blood beginning to peek back through the bandages. “So what do you say?”

“I do not believe it will do any good, but if it will make you feel better, I will swear it. I will die before allowing death to claim the Demon's daughter.”

* * *

 

Nyssa felt the walls of Nanda Parbat suffocate her. When she spoke, she trembled, but not with fear. Never with fear. Not anymore. Not after…

“You killed my beloved,” she said.

“I did no such thing. Ms. Lance was many things, but she was not your beloved. No, she was your weakness.”

“I loved her.”

“And what, pray tell, will you do now?”

“I will mourn her.”

“Is that all? It seems your loyalty to me has faltered.” His anger began to spill into his words, his commands. “Kneel.”

“You expect me to kneel before my beloved's murderer?”

Ra's al Ghul chuckled. “Sara made a choice to face me. Whatever the result, I respect her fortitude. So, no. I do not expect you to kneel before a murderer. I expect you to kneel before your _father_.” His smile widened. “Or would you prefer that your _beloved's_ sacrifice be in vain?”

“What are you saying?”

“Do you really need me to spell it out? Taeera al Asfar truly _has_ blinded you.”

She could not control it; she could not control the way her muscles had forced her into a lunge, the way her hand moved to her waist, the way she drew her dagger, and the way she held it to his neck. “ _Do not say her name_.”

But he had grabbed the dagger by the blade. He bled but did not die.

“ _Nyssa._ ” He tutted and sneered. “If you intend to kill me, it is within your best interests to succeed without a shadow of a doubt.”

He tossed his daughter aside before dipping his hand into the pit. He did not need to call out for Sarab to know to enter.

“Sarab. Take her to the dungeons,” Ra's al Ghul said. “It appears my daughter requires yet another lesson.”

Sarab nodded, though his grip was not nearly as tight as it should have been.

* * *

 

The crossbow released a bolt with a solid _twang_. Oliver lunged, pushing Laurel out of the way barely in time. She had begun to call herself the Huntress, and she had apparently decided that, with the absence of the Canary, now would be a perfect time to enter into a cat and mouse chase with a certain Laurel Lance.

Her benefactor, after all, had paid a pretty sum.

Thea swung as Oliver pulled back on his bow. She nearly grazed him with her bat. Not in sync yet. _Still_ not in sync.

The Huntress pulled the trigger yet again, sending another bolt flying towards Thea.

He lunged again, catching the projectile in the shoulder.

“What the hell? I had that!”

“Didn't seem like it.” He snapped the shaft. He could pull it out later. “Don't lose focus.”

Helena Bertinelli paused, almost, to watch the pair bicker. My. This would be easier than the big boss had made it out to be wouldn't it? She took aim with her crossbow, focusing down the sights. Her finger twitched…

…Not fast enough.

She fell to the ground, face first against the ground, Sara standing behind her, gasping as she gripped her makeshift weapon, the old umbrella. Memories of the cliff flashed through her mind; she pushed them away. “The Canary's back, bitch.”

Thea and Oliver stared, dumbstruck. She motioned for them to get away; _Not with Laurel here_ , she mouthed. _Later_.

Laurel stumbled out from behind the car she had been using as cover “Sara? Oh my god. What happened to you?”

“I may have gotten into a little spat. I'd really like it if you'd call an ambulance now. Also, please don't tell dad.”

“You've always got to make a scene, don't you?” said Laurel, attempting to inject a lightness into her tone.

“You know me. Can't do anything half-assed.”

“Like running around in leather and a mask?”

“I guess we'll have to talk later.”

“Clearly.”

Oliver's jaw began to grow sore as his molars pressed together. He had failed again. He had failed to keep Slade away from his family, and he had failed to keep Laurel away from harm. Not fast enough. Not strong enough. _Not good enough; never good enough_. _He had spent six years in the darkness and he had looked into the eyes of the Devil and he had sold his damn soul._

The Mirakuru in his pocket sang.

* * *

 

Slade busted through the hospital door.

So this is it. He's abandoning stealth altogether.

This is her reckoning. She thought about how she had walked away, in the dead of night, before Tatsu could notice. She thought about how her stitches had opened three times as she made her way back to Starling, and she thought about how she had attempted to sew it back together as Nyssa might have once done.

Lost, but she'd been lost even before she had boarded the Gambit, hadn't she?

And now she'd thrown aside her only compass.

“The rumor was that the Canary died,” he said. “I knew they were fools from the start. Nothing kills Sara Lance.”

“Slade.”

“Oliver is alive, you know. But I suspect you already knew that.”

“What do you want?”

Slade grabbed her by the throat. “I want you to endure the pain you put us all through. Me. Shado. Oliver.”

“I didn't ask for any of this.”

“No, but that's the problem with you, isn't it? You never had to ask. And somehow, every time, they will all always choose you. Why is that? Why is it that you _always_ survive? Why is it that everyone always chooses you? Oliver. Ivo. And now that pretty little brunette.”

 _Nyssa_.

“Nothing to say, girl? Did you finally realize that I've been right all along? You've spent your entire life letting everyone else make the hard choices for you. You are _finally_ paying your dues.”

 _He's right_.

“Here's what you're going to do,” he said. “I have a limo waiting outside. You're going to get into that limo, and you aren't going to make a peep, because if you do, I'll blow up the little presents I have waiting for you inside. You wouldn't want Moira and Thea Queen's brains splattered all over the inside of a Rolls Royce, now would you? But don't worry. You'll survive. Just like you always do.”

* * *

 

“ _When I was on the Amazo_ ,” Sara had said, “ _I used to dream about these fries. But it was like I had been on that ship my entire life and that I would be on that ship for my entire life and it would never end. When everything ended and I was finally free from Ivo and Waller, I thought… I thought I didn't deserve any of this. I'm glad I'm rediscovering all of this. With you._ ”

She had never thought, she had never even dreamed, that she would crave strips of potato that had been drenched with oil and fried in a basket. She had never dreamed that she would crave milkshakes that were too thick to even drink through a straw.

Nyssa sat crosslegged in her cage, and she thought off the outside world.

Of Sara's world.

Of a world beyond the League.

A woman approached her guard:

“Be gone,” he said. “You only waste good food. She won't eat it.”

“Ra's al Ghul requires that his prisoners be fed,” Talibah said. “Or perhaps you would like to explain to him yourself why his daughter as not at least received her daily ration?”

Talibah entered, the pepper balanced neatly over the rice.

“Bring the old plate with you,” Nyssa said. “It is… beginning to attract flies.”

“I believe you may find this more appetizing. But I would not drink the water.” Talibah lowered her voice as she noisily picked up the untouched food from the day prior. “There are those of us who believe that the water may corrupt with false prophecy. We follow the true Demon.”

“Wait for the grass to settle,” Nyssa said.

She pulled the pepper apart, unearthing a shiv the size of her finger.

It would do.

* * *

 

Slade shoved them out into the field, Moira, Thea, and Sara. His eyes burned with derangement.

“I was dead the last time Oliver was offered this choice,” Slade said.

Sara couldn't bring herself to feel anger. She couldn't bring herself to feel fear or sadness or _anything at all_. She let the blankness engulf her. Good. She needed this now. Against Slade.

“I often wondered how you looked when he pointed the gun at Shado and took her from me. How is it that you looked at Oliver? Did you beg for your life? Did you beg for him to choose you over her?”

“You psychopath,” she muttered. “ _You have no idea what happened that night_.”

Moira cried, realization dawning upon her, her vision of Oliver shattering. “You… You were on the island with Oliver… and Sara…”

“I thought I knew true despair,” Slade said, “until I met your son and his _little slut_.” He turned to Sara. “Now it is your turn to make the choice. You get to choose who dies and who lives. You get to choose how exactly you would like to tear _somebody else's_ family apart. Now _choose_.”

“Kill me.” Sara spoke firmly. “I know that's what you want. So do it.”

“Too little, too late. I will not let you die a hero, Sara Lance. It is not your destiny. Choose or I will kill them both.”

She found Moira's eyes. “I'm sorry.”

And Moira smiled in response; “Thank you,” she said, but her words were drowned by Thea's cries.

Slade lifted his sword, and Sara felt the haze lift from her eyes. Ra's al Ghul. The climb. The fall. _Everything_. It had all been a fog over her eyes. She allowed the emptiness to grip her heart. She allowed the numbness to fill every pore in her body and engulf her. Drown her. Envelop her.

Become the Canary. Fully. Completely. Alone. No more distractions. Sometimes men like Slade have to _suffer_. A clear purpose. A clear direction.

Protect Starling City at all costs.

* * *

 

Even from a distance, Oliver could see Slade's sword run through his mother's chest. He could not, no matter how hard he tried, make out the expression on Slade's face, but he saw him turn. Oliver saw Slade turn, and he _knew_ that their eyes had met.

He did not try to reach them. He knew that Slade would be long gone by then.

He reached into the side pouch of his bike, instead, and his fingers trembled as he wrapped his fingers around the drug.

Maybe if he had been faster. Maybe if he had been stronger.

Hell, maybe if he had been faster and stronger back on Lian Yu, too, or on the Amazo.

No, can't be helped. Can't think like that.

The only thing to do is to be faster and stronger _now_. _For the future_.

The Mirakuru surged through his veins, and for the first time in years, he saw his father as though he were truly made of flesh and blood.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll be the first to admit that I struggled writing this chapter, mostly because I needed to have a lot to happen within a relatively short amount of time. We're reaching one of our crucial turning points, however, so definitely look forward to the next major update.


	16. Flash and Substance

2014

Wally makes his way into the bar after the race. With his mother dead... Well he didn't need to race anymore, and he knew Joe would disaprove, but Joe's not around anymore either is he? Keystone City was his town now. He had punched one of the punks square in the jaw after he had seen him try to distribute drugs around the lot.

"What? You hot on the Canary or something?" they had said. "Look! Tail-lights wants to become a vigilante."

Jokes were fine and all, but when the coked-up punk had gotten up, his merch scattered across the asphalt, the gang had run him out, the message clear: Wally runs this turf, and no one ought to mess with Wally. But some losers don't know when to quit. "You'll get yours. You'll see. The Rogues are coming for you, Wally West, and we're taking this town back."

So Wally makes his way into the bar after the race, the Rogues' usual haunt, flanked by his pals.

Empty. They must got something planned. Except they left a guy behind. The crazy one. Polka dots and tights and the whole nine yards.

"Hey Tail-lights." Orion cracks his knuckles. "You want me to hang this loser off a building?"

"Take it down a notch. I'll handle this." He sighs as he sits down at the bar. "You want to tell me what your friends are planning?"

"What? Those crabby hacks can go plug a hole for all I care. But I'm not about to rat 'em out."

"Axel. You're off your meds, aren't you?"

"Better off without 'em. I just take 'em if I start feeling down."

"You know that's not how the medicine works," Wally says. "You're not well."

"I'm _fine_ ," Axel insists.

"Listen, Axel, you're wearing the suit again."

"I am?" Axel Walker cocks his head to the side before looking down. "Look at that! You're right!"

"How about this. You tell me what your buddies are planning, and I promise to come see you in the hospital. We'll even play darts. _The soft tip kind_."

"Okay. They're going to ambush you at the next race."

"Perfect." Wally pats Axel on the shoulder. "See? Easy. That's all we needed. C'mon. Let's get out of here."

Orion frowns; "All right, Tail-lights," he says. "But what about him? Whattya wanna do? Should we drag him to the police station before he starts causing trouble for us again?"

"Oh right." He turned back towards Axel. "Dude. As soon as you finish your drink, turn yourself in, all right?"

Two thumbs up: "Sure thing, Wally."

Joe's not around anymore. Neither is Mom. But Keystone City is Wally's town now.


	17. No Man's Land

“Ollie, you don't have to go,” Thea said. “We can get through this together. Plus, everyone still thinks you're dead, so where are you even going to go?”

“I have a few safehouses.” Oliver slung his duffel over his shoulder. “You can come with me.”

Thea looked away, unable to meet her brother's eyes. She changed the subject; “You're going after Slade, aren't you?”

“There are some battles you need to fight on your own.”

“I don't blame her, you know. It took a while but I understand. This is Slade's fault, not Sara's.”

“I know that. And I don't blame her either.”

Oliver walked away, knowing that his sister would not follow, knowing that his sister would stay behind with Sara. Sara who…

He clipped his bow to one of the extra motorcycles.

“So you're lying to Thea, now.” Sara leaned up against the wall, her arms crossed and her eyes clouded with shadows.

“I'd never lie to Thea.'

“Really. That's how you're going to play this.”

Oliver straddled the bike, and he checked the gauges for dust. “We thought Ra's killed you. What happened?”

“He did, but Maseo – I mean,Sarab –saved me.”

“Good.”

And though he meant it, Oliver continued to wipe at the bike, picking up the stray particle of dirt. He could turn, of course, and he could lift his head too, but that would mean that he would have to… He wondered what laid within her eyes.

“Look. I know you made the right choice. Thea is _always_ the right choice. But that doesn't mean I can look at you right now.” His lips burst with a dry chuckle. “You're not going to try and stop me?”

“I can't even look at myself right now. I don't expect you to be able to fight by my side.”

“We've been through a lot together,” he said, and his voice was strained with every ounce of contained _rage_ that simmered beneath his skin. “We'll always have that.”

He could see his father's reflection in the waxed surface of the bike. _You can save everyone, Oliver,_ his father said. _You're a hero and you can save everyone._ Oliver shook his head. The Mirakuru. He flicked his heel against the kickstand and pulled his wrist back. When he looked behind, one last time, Sara was already gone.

She was silent as she walked into the basement.

“So what's the plan?” Thea said.

“There is no plan. Go home.”

“You've got to be kidding. First Ollie and now you.”

“Ollie was right,” she deadpanned. “Some battles you need to fight on your own. Bringing you and Felicity into this was a mistake, and I see that now.”

“Slade didn't target me because I've been running around as Speedy or because you're the Canary or even because Ollie drank the proverbial assassin Kool-Aid. I thought I've already proven to you that I can be strong.”

“This isn't about you,” Sara said, and for a moment she injected kindness into her voice. “This is about me. Protecting Starling… has to be my cross to bear. Now I know that I can't even save the people closest to me. All I know is that I need to do whatever it takes to save who I can. But you – I _know_ you're strong; I will never doubt that. You can do what I can't. Go home and keep yourself safe. Protect Laurel and Felicity. Protect Ollie.”

Felicity grabbed at a keyboard, clutching at the keys. “But you need someone to work the computers, right? I mean, you can hardly work a phone much less--”

“--Let's go,” Thea whispered as she guided Felicity out of the basement. She turned to Sara; “I hope you know what you're doing.”

Sara began donning her gear. Leonid stood to the side, unmoving. He had seen her like this before. It had been just after Anatoly had found Sara in that dive bar in St. Petersburg. She had gotten herself into a fight with a handful of thugs. She hadn't even been able to speak Russian, then. She probably hadn't even known why she was fighting. Leonid had been assigned to her, spirited away from the other recruits. He had been told to stay by her side, and he had seen the blank darkness in her. He had seen it because he had known it in his father too. The same impulsive itch to rage against the world. The same emotionless stare. As the wires in their heads had been crossed – a malfunction.

But Leonid had seen it subside, too.

When Sara had met Nyssa in Bludhaven. When she had returned to Starling.

When Sara had mysteriously left for Metropolis, leaving only a paper thin excuse regarding some billionaire's cocktail party.

And then the Heir to the Demon had followed the bratva captain back to her home, and for all the darkness, there had been light.

Now Leonid could see that the light in her eyes had dimmed.

“You, too, Leonid,” Sara said.

“No.”

“ _I'm ordering you to leave_.”

“ _I won't let you do this alone_.”

“ _I'm still a Captain, Leonid, and you are still bratva. A soldier. You don't_ let _me do_ anything.”

Her eyes were dark behind her mask as she left, quickly leaving Leonid behind in her dust.

* * *

 

The sewer pipes dripped above Slade as he pulled his mask over his face. Isabel Rochev stood by his side and he regarded his army with pride. He could see _her_ , too, standing behind his men, watching her lips as she mouthed words into the air.

Slade gave her words voice:

“Tonight we forge a new history,” he said. “Tonight we rise up as one and take this city. We will lead this city out of the darkness, and each one of you will help me. We will clean it of its filth and it will be held by the truly deserving. By the strong. By those who have proven their own mettle time and time again. Gone will be those who stand on the shoulders of others.

“Already our soldiers take their positions through out the city. When we march – when I give the signal – we kill them all.”

Shado smiled to him as the men pushed forward.

“Isabel, my dear,” he said, though his eyes remained with Shado. “Is it done?”

“Yes. The Merlyn takeover proved useful; we ensured that the device would be transported from D.E.O. headquarters to the precinct. Agent Chase was particularly simple to manipulate.”

“Good. Take what men you need. Secure the device for our friends at Mercy Coast. When you are finished, join me. Cull the weak and ensure that only the strong survive.”

* * *

 

The transfer inmate motioned towards Quentin, attempting to catch his attention. “Hey,” he said. “Got the time?”

“It's 9:00.”

“Thanks.”

He snapped his cuffs as though they were made of twigs and he grabbed a beat cop by the throat, snapping it with his thumb. Quentin stumbled back, fumbling for his piece as the inmate pulled the orange mask over his head.

The gun was no good.

May as well have been a toy.

The bullets may have well been plastic BBs.

Quentin watched, helpless, as more pulled masks over their heads… These inhuman monsters. They walked through his streets. A blade cut through another one of his cops, one of the rookies, straight out of the academy. A woman stood over him, the same orange mask wrapped around her head, and her swords, they dripped with blood.

She walked towards him, and he could see the anger in her eyes.

 _A flash of black_.

The Canary stood between them, blocking the strike with a bo. Damn, he's glad to see her. For once. Another no good _monster_ climbed into the precinct. Quentin threw a lamp. A stapler. Something. Anything.

Quentin and the Canary.

They were outnumbered.

He heard a voice. A familiar voice. A girl; “Get down!”

Shit. Grenades.

He grabbed the Canary, most likely to her distaste, and he pulled her back, throwing her into the next room behind cover. He covered his ears.

Little good that did.

His ears rang anyway. Great. Didn't help his tinnitus out at all. He looked up; at least that crazy bitch was gone, and is that… the sidekick? Up this close, she's… she's just a kid. An actual child. Younger than Sara even would have been. The large one grunted tossing aside debris.

Speedy flashed her teeth; “Thought you could use the support.”

“I told you to stay away,” the Canary said, gritting her teeth.

Guess vigilantes have domestic spats, too, Quentin thought.

“There are _hundreds_ of them out there, and I don't even think they're human. Do you even have a plan? If you're really willing to do _whatever_ it takes--”

“--I said, no. I don't need your help. Take my dad and Laurel. Take Felicity. Get to a safehouse, hunker down, and _wait this out_.”

 _Dad?_ _Is that… Laurel? No… Sara?_

But before he could speak, the Canary was already gone.

* * *

 

Al Owal strode into the main chamber; “Sara Lance yet lives.”

“What proof do you have?” Ra's al Ghul said. He neither smiled nor frowned as he ran his finger through the water, testing the pit.

“She has been seen battling Slade Wilson's forces.”

“So she survived my sword. In truth, I did not think Ben-Hassin's prophecy would be realized in this manner.”

“What would you have us do?” Al Owal said.

“Fetch my daughter. And do away with restraints. They are no longer necessary.” He cracked the vertebrae in his neck. “Say nothing of Ms. Lance's return until I give the word.”

Al Owal nodded before rushing to fulfill his master's will, and he became a frantic whirlwind as he began to issue orders beyond the chamber doors.

Nyssa's entrance was unceremonious to say the least.

“I'll take your head from your shoulders,” she said.

The dagger hidden within her sleeve, Nyssa calculated the room: five of her father's men. Two loyal to herself: Talibah and a young boy who remained still wet behind his ears. Perhaps Sarab… He had been kind. It could be a trick. Yet another test.

“It pleases that you remain as ruthless as ever” her father replied. “Although, it appears that it was all for naught. Your actions are no longer of my concern and are of no greater import than that of the rank and file.”

“You killed my beloved. Now you would strip me of my birthright, as well.”

“ _Be silent_. Now, as it stands, I still have a task for you yet.”

“You are insane if you believe I will do anything you ask.” The dagger slid into her palm.

“I am _ordering_ you to return to Starling. Considering the events that have transpired, I suspect you will be needed there shortly. Under normal circumstances, I would have you executed, but the relationship you pursued with this Sara Lance may yet prove to be quite fortuitous.”

Her father jumps pawns with his knight, then. Very well.

She had heard of Talia and her obsession with the _owls_ , with Alan Wayne of Gotham. She had heard of the war within League ranks. Talia had been the first of his children to gain a mastery in chess, and though she had been a warrior, too, she had learned and played at war as though she were a queen. She had fallen quickly as a result. Ra's had rectified these mistakes with Nyssa.

As she attacked with the dagger, planting a foot against the chest of one of her father's men, she wondered if he had ever played chess against one of his own treasured pieces.

She held the dagger to Talibah's throat, and the message was clear: Talibah allowed the blade to draw blood before landing a strike of her own…

Enough to give Ra's al Ghul a steady and quick advantage. His sword was steady in the air.

“Yield,” he said. “Do not take my mercy for granted.”

“ _Whatever_ you wish, then,” she said, and she spat, her spittle spraying across the chamber floor. “And now I will make myself _perfectly clear_. I will go to Starling but I refuse to be your prisoner any longer. Tonight marks my last in Nanda Parbat.”

“Bold words. I trust Starling will find you well.”

Nyssa, flanked by her father's men, turned on her heels and left the chamber.

Bold words indeed:

_Whatever you wish, then. And now I will make myself perfectly clear. I will go to Starling but I refuse to be your prisoner any longer. Tonight marks my last in Nanda Parbat._

_Whatever. And. I. Tonight._

_W. A. I. T._

_Wait._

Behind her mask, Talibah's lips twitched.

* * *

 

In the end, Sara knew that Thea had been right, and prepping the signal itself hadn't been difficult; Nyssa had taught her how.

Staring up at the swirling smoke, she waited, and waiting became the most difficult task of all.

She waited until she found the smoke mirrored in the air above the far side of the city, and without hesitation, she maneuvered through the chaos and the destruction and the death, taking out as many of Slade's men as she could along the way, sinking pit viper venom into their veins.

“You must have a deathwish,” Sarab said when she entered the building.“You are playing into Ra's al Ghul's hands.”

“I'm doing what's necessary. I can't face Slade's numbers alone, and I'm hoping that Ra's al Ghul will at least respect bravery. I already survived him once, anyway.”

“Through no skill of your own.” He growled, frowning almost at the emotionless expression he found mirrored in Sara. “What of your friends?”

“I don't need friends. I need an army.”

“You have the bratva.”

“And you know as well as I do that Europe has the bratva's full focus right now.”

“Mercy Coast Security and Troy International.”

“Fronts,” Sara said. “As I'm sure the League is aware. I won't compromise the safety of an entire continent over my crusade. But that's not what matters. Can you help or not?”

“That is not up to me to decide. But _as your friend_ , I urge you to tread carefully. Ra's al Ghul knows you live, and he has already begun the manipulate the board.”

“Well, it was bound to happen at some point.” Her facade cracked, if only for a moment. “Does Nyssa…?”

“Your survival has not been revealed to the League at large, and I have not told her anything.”

“Good.”

“But, you should know--”

“Sara?”

She gasped when she heard the voice she had thought she would dread. Sara Lance turned to find Nyssa, daughter of Ra's al Ghul, Heir to the Demon, staring back.

* * *

 

Oliver sent arrow after arrow after arrow into the other, flinging the deadly projectiles systematically. Like a machine. He swung the rounded end of the compound bow against a masked head, cracking clear through the bone. One assailant after the other – he matched the blow for blow.

He caught sight, briefly, of a muzzle flash.

 _Bang_. _Bang bang._

SHADO: Why are you fighting?

They whispered into his ear.

ROBERT: He's trying to cleanse the city; he's succeeding where I failed.

SHADO: You don't need to fight him, Oliver.

MOIRA: It's not his fault. Sara could have found another way. I could still be alive.

ROBERT: You can be this city's savior, too. You can save everyone.

MOIRA: This is what you are meant to do.

He shrugged off the sting of the bullets, forging on into the mettle, sweat staining his hood, coloring the fabric with a deeper, darker green.

SHADO: It wasn't your fault. _She_ brought Ivo into our lives. _She_ forced Ivo to make you choose between us.

MOIRA: She manipulated you.

SHADO: He's your brother.

His vision colored with a calm crimson, and he found _peace_ in _rage_. He rolled to the side before sinking a fist of arrows into his opponent's thigh.

MOIRA: He's your brother.

A blow to the head. Hardly worth flinching over. Sweat blinded his eyes as he reached out towards his opponent, towards the soft flesh encasing his throat. Oliver snapped the man's neck.

ROBERT: He's your brother.

He wiped his bloodied hands over his trousers before grabbing his bow. Find Slade. Find him. He's your brother, Oliver. Find Slade Wilson.

* * *

 

Nyssa had seen it. She had seen the sword impale Sara's chest. She had held her in her arms. She had watched as Sara fell.

But there she stood.

Alive.

Breathing.

 _Alive_.

She felt the deep throb of restrained tears in her throat.

“Leave us,” Nyssa said to Sarab, but her eyes had not left Sara's. She whispered; “You live.”

“I'm sorry.”

“You seem to be saying that a lot as of late.” She stood unmoving, her feet planted firmly in place. “So this is why my father sent me here. You have been alive all this time, and you allowed me to believe that you had died.”

“What did you want me to do? Send you a telegram? I was only doing what needed to be done.”

A deep sigh. “What are you doing here, Sara?”

Sara flinched at the sound of her own name leaving Nyssa's mouth. The emphasis. The twinge. She wondered if she would ever hear Nyssa call her by the name she had given her. Taeera al Asfar. She wanted, despite herself, to hear it again.

“I told Sarab; I came to ask for the League's help.”

“You will have it.”

“That's it? No catch?”

“I suspect my father sent me here knowing exactly what would occur. I can't profess to knowing what he plans, but regardless I will not see your home laid to waste.” Her hands remained motionless, too, clasped before her. “Is that all?”

“Are you…?” Sara started.

“ _Stop it_.”

“But I'm…”

“ _Stop playing games with me_.” Nyssa's voice broke. “You betrayed me in our own bed while we slept. I cannot profess to know why you chose to seduce me. I suppose it is useful for a ranking member of the bratva to have the League of Assassins close. But in the end, you left me, and when it became clear that Al Sa'him had himself betrayed the League in order to return to Starling – to _you_ – I was nearly forced to… I watched you die for him.”

“Nyssa…”

“Stop playing games with me,” Nyssa said again, whispering. Begging, almost. “I don't think I can stand it for much longer. I will help you protect Starling and your beloved, but do not pretend to love me.”

She surged forward as Nyssa had once done, uncontrollable desperation lacing her every move, and she thought she could stop herself but she couldn't and she _gravitated_ towards the other woman because how could she think… Can't let her think…

“ _I never loved him,_ ” she said. “Never. Not once.” She held Nyssa who remained stiff in her arms. “I was never pretending, and I'm not pretending now. People around me die at my expense, and I thought… I believed that as long as you were alive… Nothing else mattered.”

Sara held her tight because _dear god_ it had been so long since that night in the safehouse.

“Please, Nyssa. Please believe me. As stupid as this sounds, you're my soul. I know you don't have any reason to believe me, and I know it's my fault, but please. Please don't think that I never loved you, that I don't…” She ran her fingers against exposed skin, caressing Nyssa's cheek, her jaw, her… neck. Nyssa flinched when Sara's thumb ran over the vanished wound. Breathing her in one last time, Sara peeled herself away. “You don't have to help me. I'll find another way to protect Starling, but you're the one thing I will never sacrifice, and I can't keep hurting you.”

“No.” She watched as the woman she had once thought dead continued to walk away. “ _Taeera al Asfar_ ,” she called, and though Sara continued, she faltered. Nyssa's voice became rough and raw; “Would you truly have me beg? Don't leave me. Not again.”

* * *

 

PRESENT DAY

“Is it done?”

Orm faces his brother. “The devices are already in place.”

“Good,” Arthur says. “We'll bring _everything_ she has ever touched crumbling down, and we will do it swiftly before she can wrought more death upon others.” A pause. “Garth doesn't approve.”

“Garth is _gone_ ,” Orm insists. “What he doesn't realize is that the days of nations and borders are over. Wars are fought by amorphous ideals. Diana knows this and she will take advantage of this. Think of your wife, Arthur. She confronted Diana, attempting to find peace, and now she lies dead. We may not be backed by a government or a nation, but do not misunderstand. This is another coming of a world war; LexCorp and Ferris Air have already made deals with Troy International.”

“You are right, Orm. You always are. You have done well.”

He closes the door softly, and he can feel the presence of his brother's hand on his shoulder as he makes his way to the alley. He finds her leaning against the wall.

“You're late,” Aleka says.

“My brother had questions. I informed him that Europe would soon fall to mechanized earthquakes.”

“And amidst the chaos that has recently plagued the League of Assassins, we secured the chemicals. As we speak, we are synthesizing… the most efficient means of dissemination possible. Of course, Diana would never give the order unless properly provoked.”

“And Arthur would never destroy nations unless he feared a far more disastrous outcome.”

Aleka laughs as she kisses Orm. “Blind idiots.”


	18. Elegy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I realized that the tie-ins might be a little chronologically confusing, so I've added a general timeframe to each one (with late 2015/early 2016 being Barry Allen's present day).
> 
> We're also nearing the end of Act Two, so if you'd like to know the whereabouts of a particular character in this universe, hit me up.

2014

We're all mad here. Mad, mad, mad as a bat.

The twice-named daughter of Cain reaches out, her hair like crackling fire. She hangs from the door of the flying machine, reaching and reaching and reaching towards Mistress Alice. Behold, for the vile person will speak villainy, and Her heart will work inquity, to empty the soul of the hungry, and cause the drink of the thirsty to fail, and for this shall she be most praised:

"No, don't!" says the Bat. "The fall will kill you," she says.

Then shall they call out to her, and call her faceless: "You have our father's eyes."

Tremble, for there shall come a time when the Faithless will cast out the prophet from te city of the foolish and wise; and then shall the high madame, shall Alice, be lost to us, down into the rabbit hole. Down into the river. Would the fall ever come to an end?

Either the fall was very deep, or she fell very slowly. See, Alice was beginning to get very tired of sitting by her sister on the bank and of having nothing to do. So down the rabbit hole she went. Down into the river. Which way ought we go from here? Depends a good deal on where you want to go. Don't care much where? So long as we get somewhere. Sure to do that, sure to do that, if only you walk long enough. She who strips flesh from bone shall go forth from the abandoned shore to seek another, to prepare the way for that darkness to come.

The city of stars positively screams. Men in masks run through the streets, killing and pillaging and off with their heads!

A woman looks up as the masked head rolls, and her hair is as red as fire, too.

"Officer Cutter," she says. "You saved my life," she says.

"Now, Cutter, tell me the truth: did you ever eat a bat?"

"No! What kind of question is that?"

"I'm afraid I can't explain myself, because I'm not myself, you see. Off with your head, too!"

Bored of this game. We're bored of this game, because we've played it for too long. Carrie Cutter. What a name. Her hair is bright like fire, too, spilling out like a bleeding heart. We need a new face, now. Man in green. Men in black. Arrows all about. Fun all around in this city of stars, rife with new games to play.

So shall the faceless lead them, and raise up the devoted, and hearld the coming of the last high madame upon the world; and the gods once new, now old stained see the sign, and know the time of their reckoning is come.

"Carrie Cutter," she says. "I do like alliteration. Watch out, Starling City, Cupid has come out to play."


	19. Judas Contract

THEA frowned, gazing at the little makeshift operation they had managed to put together in Sara's absence. Leonid continued, as always, to cross his arms as he stood in the corner. Felicity looked just about _giddy_ to be back with her toys. And Sin… If Sara ever showed up, she'd have a lot to explain.

Speak of the devil and she shall appear; Thea looked up from the basement workstation. Their footsteps were light and quiet. She stood when she caught sight of the newcomers. _The League of Assassins_. _They've come for Oliver._

“Oliver's not here,” she said, reaching for a weapon.

Nyssa shook her head holding her hand up. “We are not here for Al Sa'him. We have come to lend our efforts in defeating Slade Wilson.”

 _So Nyssa and Sara?_ Sara seemed… different. Lighter, even.

“What is this?” Sara said.

She looked around at the group that had gathered in her once secret hideout. Thea thought she almost looked surprised. Just barely.

“We ignored you,” said Thea, “because you were, no offense, being a moron. Well, I sort of listened. This _is_ a safehouse, isn't it?”

Felicity spun around, too. “For the record, I told her we should find someplace else because, you know, the Nest is supposed to be a secret lair.”

“The Nest?” Nyssa lifted an eyebrow.

“Yeah, the _Nest_. Because birds make nests. It's, uh, part of the theme. The bird theme. But I guess the secret thing's kind out out of the window now, because you guys also brought, like, thirty assassins.” She took a breath. “Hi, Nyssa.”

“We'll find a new homebase later,” Thea reassured. She cast a sideways glance towards Sara who still looked like she had stepped in some sort of alternate reality. _Nyssa probably has something to do with that._ “We still need to stop Slade, right?”

Leonid stepped forward. “I brought Markov and the rest.”

She'd taken a liking to Leonid. The big lug was practically twice her size. Still, he never held back when sparring. And he never apologized. _What_ , he had said the first time he had landed a hard blow. _You want me to kiss your boo boo? Get back up, rich girl_.

“Markov?” Sara seemed to come to her senses. “When was the last time you were even in a fight?”

“I'm as steady as a rock, Lance,” she said. “Turns out our little problem in Europe and your problems here are related. The damage may already be done, but Anatoly was clear in making an example out of Slade Wilson and Isabel Rochev.”

“And I managed to synthesize a cure to the Mirakuru,” Felicity said, piping in. She shrugged; “When you mentioned Slade a while back, I did my research. I've been trying to come up with a cure ever since.”

Thea walked over to Sara. “This is our city, too. Slade is a maniac, and I know you've had to make hard decisions just to survive on the island. You're still trying to do that now, but you're not alone anymore. We're going to help you, and it isn't your choice.”

“You're not going to stop, are you?”

“Slade killed my mom. I'm going back out there whether you like it or not.”

“Fine.” Sara's expression relaxed. “Slade's forces are strong but it looks like most of them haven't been running on Mirakuru for very long. Which means we can herd them chokepoints. If we can do that, we can get the cure out in big batches. We can have Nyssa's assassins take the east side. Leonid, you can take the west side.”

“And we'll take the Glades.” Sin stepped out of the woodwork. “Thea called. I've got a literal army who would like nothing more than to help the Canary. Don't worry. You just need shepherd them around, right? We've been running all our lives. We're quick.”

Sara nodded slowly. “I can't-- _Fine_. Thea, you stay with them. Since Markov seems to know what Slade is _really_ up to, she'll come with me. This doesn't end until we take him out.”

“I will come with you,” Nyssa said, with a finality that was difficult to argue with.

Thea regarded them both. They stood apart. Shoulder to shoulder, exactly six inches apart. Constantly six inches apart, no more, no less. As though they were both too afraid to broach the distance. As though they were both too afraid to be any farther apart. Nyssa, for her part, seemed to walk in Sara's shadow, silently maintaining their proximity. Thea had even seen Leonid tighten his lips on noticing: _Sorry, big guy. It looks like you've been replaced._

“I'm glad you're here,” she said to Nyssa. “She's easier to deal with when you're around.”

* * *

 

OLIVER stood at the docks, his nostrils, filling with the smell of rotting wood. The water splashed against the seawall. Six years ago he had gotten on the Queen's Gambit. Six years ago he had brought Sara with him.

Slade lifted his mask. “You finally found me, kid. So what are you going to do?”

“I'm going to kill you.”

“You took it, didn't you? The Mirakuru. How does it feel?”

ROBERT: You can save everybody. You can save your mother.

MOIRA: You can save me.

“You killed my mother,” Oliver said.

“Did I? What would you have done in Sara's place? She was a coward. She didn't even hesitate. She emerged, yet again, unscathed.”

SHADO: He's right, Oliver. I could have _lived_.

Oliver grabbed the bollard. “You're lying.”

“We were a family, kid. You, me, and Shado. We could have made it out together. Instead, _she_ returned first. While _you_ suffered under the gaze of the Demon, _she_ hid with the Russian. She could have saved you.”

“She didn't know I was alive.”

“Are you sure about that?”

MOIRA: She survived. You could have, too.

SHADO: She didn't even look.

ROBERT: She doesn't care.

Oliver smashed the bollard with his bare fist, and he lunged towards Slade.

But Slade was quicker, more practiced in his rage. He wrapped his bicep around Oliver's jugular, cutting off the flow of blood to his brain.

“Let me help you, kid. Shado has helped me see: we can be a family again. Like we used to be. We went through so much on the island. Together. Don't you remember? Blood shed in battle runs thicker than the water of the womb, kid.”

“We're brothers,” Oliver whispered.

His vision had begun to blur when he caught sight of the arrows sinking into Slade's chest.

* * *

 

SARA looked down from atop the shipping container, Nyssa on one side and Markov on the other. “Slade Wilson,” she said, booming. “You have failed this city.”

She watched as Slade slid to the ground, releasing his hold over Ollie. Ollie was quick on the uptake, his bow already drawn and aimed towards Slade's forehead.

“You can't kill me,” Slade said. “I'm _strong_.”

Nyssa laughed. “Everyone dies, you fool. And you are no longer the monster you once were. The antigen is flushing your precious drug from your system as we speak.”

“No!” Slade threw his fist against the deck, barely causing a tremor. “She's gone. I can't see her. I can't _hear_ her.” He turned to Ollie, attempting to grab his arm. “You can see her, can't you? You can still see Shado?”

_What? Why would Ollie be able to…?_

The gunshot rang out through the docks. Blood sprayed out from the back of Slade's skull, a shower of fluids, brain, and bone.

“ _Tara_.” She pulled Markov back. “What the hell are you thinking? He was _cured_.”

“Anatoly made it very clear what I had to do. Plus, I got sick of his whining. Mass murderer or no, the guy rubbed me the wrong--”

More blood. The arrows passed through the Russian as though they were cutting butter. Green arrowheads. Green fletching. _Ollie, what have you done?_

“You killed my brother,” he said and his eyes became feral.

He grabbed the mask that had fallen by Slade's feet.

* * *

 

NYSSA leapt first, firing arrrows while Sara looked on, dumbstruck. It didn't take long for Sara to follow. The mask was large and loose over Al Sa'him's head.

_The fool took the drug. He has gone mad._

“How much more of the cure do we have?” Sara called out, as she dodged arrows.

 _So she still wants to save Al Sa'him_. “None,” she replied. “But the others may have more.”

“We'll just have to keep him busy.” Sara refocused her attention on Al Sa'him. “Ollie. Listen to me. This isn't you. We can help.”

“I don't want to be helped. They're with me, Sara. My mother. My father. Shado. Slade. I won't let you take that away. Not again.”

Nyssa attempted to strike him from behind. “She took nothing from you, Al Sa'him. You place blame on others, and you shame yourself.”

Al Sa'him caught the bow, snapping the limb with ease. He forced Nyssa back, flinging his arrows towards her.

“So the Heir is back by your side,” Al Sa'him snarled. “Of course, she is. She's just the latest catch of the hour, isn't she? A convenient warm body to keep you alive. She's just another me. She's just another _Ivo_.” Sara screamed as he flung her aside. He faced Nyssa head on. “She cares about you now, but she'll move on before you know it. She's just trying to survive. She's _selfish_ and she's _weak._ ”

She pulled Al Sa'him's arrows from her shoulder, ignoring the pain of ripped muscles and ligaments. She parried his blows with the arrows in hand. “You will refrain from speaking of her in such a manner.” She stabbed him, but the wound gave him little pause. “She faced my father for you. She _died_ for you.”

“Is that what you think? Ra's was right; she made you weak, too. It's like a plague. Maybe your weakness was her game all along.” Al Sa'him clenched his fist. “Sara failed Shado. She failed my mother and my sister. She'll fail this city, too. _I'm_ strong enough now to make the right decisions. _I_ can save everyone. _I_ can be a hero.”

His blow caught her by the temple, and she felt her neck twist as she spun through the air over the railing. The water was cold against her skin, the salt stinging her eyes. She did not hear Sara yell. Nor did she see Sara leap into the waters after her.

A warm embrace caught her beneath her arms.

“You're wrong, Ollie,” she heard Sara say, gasping and sputtering over the tide. “You and Slade both. You let the Mirakuru drive you insane. Think of Thea. You know what _your little sister_ taught me? We can't fix the world. We can't shield the people we love by sheltering them. We can't obsess over every what-might-have-been, and we can't keep choosing for everyone else. That's _not_ why the world needs heroes.”

“Then enlighten me,” Al Sa'him spat. “Why?”

“To have faith in the people around us. To catch them if they fall.”

Deathstroke turned his back. He spoke over his shoulder as he walked away, grabbing Slade's swords. “Your newfound attitude will kill the woman you love.”

* * *

 

SARA glared as Leonid wrapped the blanket over her shoulders. He ignored her, fussing as he tugged and pulled the fabric tighter. She'd have to have a conversation with him later. Too cold now. No more fussing. She looked around her at the mess. Loss of secrecy notwithstanding, they would've needed to upgrade “the Nest” anyway.

“Thea is running clean-up,” he said. “She is becoming quite adept.”

“Has anyone told her about Oliver, yet?”

“No. I was not sure if that would be the wisest--”

“--No. She needs to know. As soon as she gets back, we tell her everything.” Sara groaned as she shifted. Adrenaline gone. Pain. She's going to have new scars. “Anything else I need to know?”

“Your sister is attempting to run interference outside. Your father has many questions.”

“ _Wonderful_.”

Leonid chuckled. “All things considered, you're looking better. It is good to have you back.” He tugged on the blanket again. “Although, I believe if I stay in this room any longer, _she_ may attempt to kill me.”

Nyssa narrowed her eyes from the other side of the room, and her gaze followed Leonid as he left. He scurried out. Hell, he looks nervous.

“You didn't have to jump into the water,” Nyssa said.

“A reflex.”

Beneath the tightly wound blanket, Sara twiddled her thumbs. Neither spoke.

“Do we need to talk about what Ollie said?”

“You fought my father for me.” Nyssa huffed, and Sara couldn't help but smile. “I am no damsel in distress.”

“I didn't want to force you against your father, and I didn't want you to die. Having you hate me seemed like the better option.”

“And yet I find myself pitted against my father regardless.”

“Well, I'd rather not think that it was all for nothing. I do love you. And nothing's ever going to make me leave your side. Not this time.” Her knees creaked as she rose to her feet. She walked to Nyssa. “Hey. Look at me. You are _nothing_ like Ivo.”

Sara winced as Nyssa looked down at her fingers.

“How can you be sure?” Nyssa said.

“ _I won't let you think that about yourself_. Not for a second. No. We did not go through _all that_ for you to start torturing yourself over my stupid mistakes. If I have to spend the rest of my life proving that I love you, then I will.”

“I believe if you continue to make speeches, you will run out of words,” Nyssa said quietly, and Sara swore that she saw her blush.

“Can't help myself.”

She sidled up beside Nyssa, and she felt herself blush, too, when she felt the small movement beside her, when she felt Nyssa shift the half centimeter towards her.

“And will you catch me if I fall?”

“I thought you weren't a damsel in distress?” Sara said, attempting to suppress a chuckle.She leaned her head on Nyssa's shoulder. “Of course, I will. You know, I like it when you quote me.”

“I know, Taeera al Asfar,” Nyssa whispered. “I know.”

* * *

 

PRESENT DAY

BARRY and the computer screen. He stares. A photo of Zoom in Starling. In the background. Barely enough to notice, but Barry knows.

“Uh Earth to Meekus.”

“Hm?”

“ _Barry._ Wait, they had Zoolander in your timeline, right? I mean, if the right changes were made, movies could be different, too… Or should we not be talking about this? But we're not in your past though, so… What is this? An alternate present? I'm going to confuse myself.”

“We're spending all this time trying to find Zoom so that we can get him to put everything back to normal. What if I'm not supposed to change the world back?”

“Uh… To be honest, I don't know how to answer your questions.”

Barry leans back into his chair. “I'm serious. This is your life. You've been living it. As far as everyone else is concerned, they've spent their whole lives living this particular timeline. I'm the only one who's out place.”

“Yeah, you and that blue guy. Who, by the way, _so_ needs a better name.”

“I mean, who am I to decide that everything needs to be changed back? I have my mom back. Iris is happy, and she doesn't have to deal with the fact that her fiance died.”

“But now her dad's dead.”

“ _I know_. But what if we try to change everything back and _both_ Joe and Iris die? What if you die? Or Caitlin? We don't know what'll happen; maybe we should just let it be.”

“I don't know, man. I'll tell you one thing. Something about all of this feels funky. Like a square peg just got shoved into a round hole. Can't tell you exactly what that means for you, though.” Cisco frowns. “Hey. Where you going?”

“I just remembered. I have dinner with my mom.”


	20. Hellblazer

2016

"My. You're looking a little green, today." The woman spoke with a thick accent, and her skin dripped with perfume. "Perhaps I can interest you in one of my herbal remedies."

Alec Holland silenced her with his hand. "I don't think oregano will help. Look. My friend convinced me to give this a try, but let me get this straight. I don't believe in this mumbo jumbo."

"A non-believer." The woman wrung her fingers. "Tell me what her name is."

"I bet you get a lot of schmucks asking after their women," he said. Then, after a pause: "Abigail."

She began to _chant_. Her eyes rolled back into her head and she convulsed, shook, and trembled, and he could see into the whites of here eyes. The table lifted up into the air and the cloth that had been hung over the surface danced across his knees.

The woman droned on.

He felt a chill in the air.

But not because of the woman. _John_. Some friend, signing him up for this crap.

"Floating tables?" John said. "Really? Didn't take you for cheap tricks, love."

"Constantine." The woman's accent fell away.

"Better give my mate his wallet back," he said. "You never could pull one over on me. I practically invented this game."

"Then you know it pays. _Especially_ when you don't interrupt."

"If you haven't already gathered, we aren't here for overpriced hunks of quartz." He smiled, the cigarette hanging from his upper lip. "We need your help."

"What? You and the non-believer? And why on earth would I help _you_ after I you nearly blinded me?"

"Because it isn't just the two of us, love." Constantine\ stepped aside revealing the third of their party. "Or perhaps you'd like the demon to sing you a rhyme. I believe that you've already known Jason Blood for a great many years."

"Hmph," said Jason Blood, turning away and narrowing his eyes.

Constantine tipped his cigarette ash onto the floor. "He's usually so much more eloquent. But then, he's usually far uglier, too. But I hear you like that sort of thing."

"You're gathering together extraordinarily dangerous magic," the woman breathed. "I'm guessing you want me to help you find _her_ , too."

"On the nose, love."

"She doesn't know what she is capable of, yet. She's still pulling rabbits out of hats. Parlor tricks."

"She's the key. A fog has descended over our minds; I know you've noticed. You have been alive longer than most and must be aware that _something_ has gone terribly wrong. She can help us remember. She has a flair for problems regarding memory."

"Fine," she said. She stared Jason Blood down. "I'll help. But get _those_ two out of my shop first."

A quick nod from Constantine, and Blood had the doctor by the arm, shepherding him out the door, the tops of their heads becoming illuminated by the sign: MADAME XANADU.

Constantine chuckled. "I didn't think the demon would still have you quite so... rattled. Perhaps I should rent out a motel room for the pair of you."

"That young friend of yours. The non-believer. He may may be _green_ and oblivious to his own self, but I am no fool." The woman snarled. "The next time you want to bring an _old god_ into my store, I swear I'll have you sent to hell."


	21. A Death in the Family

PRESENT DAY

Barry remembers the way he his mother had looked at him as he stumbled to the stage. He had been late to his own graduation. His car had broken down off the side of the road; so, grabbing his robe, he had run to the school, and he tripped over his own feet along the way. He waved at the crowd and smiled. Nora Allen smiled because that's Barry, and he's always late, but he's there when it matters.

Barry remembers the way his mother had surprised him with a cigar.

She had hugged him, and they went home together.

“I'm proud of you,” Nora had said. “Your dad would be, too.”

That's right. Because he remembers Henry Allen, too. He remembers the night of the accident. He remembers arriving at the hospital, but he had already been too late; he could not have been on time even if he had been capable of the _impossible_.

Henry Allen's heart had stopped on the way to the hospital. Every attempt to resuscitate him had failed.

Barry's mother sets the pot roast on the table, and he can hear the news reports playing on repeat in his head. The state of Central City, torn apart by the particle accelerator and left without a Flash to stand against the multitude of bewildered metahumans. The destruction of Coast City. The death of Joe West. And his father.

“Mom,” he says, in a quiet voice. “What if I told you I used to be capable of the impossible? Would you believe me? As ridiculous as that might sound?”

Nora can hear the conviction in her son's voice, and in her heart of hearts – she can't explain it – she knows that he's telling the truth; “You're my son, Barry. I will always believe you.”

“I can turn back time. I can save people and fix everything that's gone wrong, but that would mean that everything that's gone right would be turned back, too. Dad and Joe and all those people… I don't know if… I come from a different timeline, mom. You died. That's the world I'd be bringing back.”

“How many people, Barry?”

He thought of Coast City. He thought of Joe and Henry. “I don't know. Maybe hundreds. Maybe thousands. Maybe only a handful.”

“Even if you could only save one, you should,” Nora says.

“But I won't let you die. I won't let this life be erased.” Barry says, and he holds his mom because he _can_.

“It won't be.”

“Mom--”

“--It happened, Barry. One way or another, the life we had together happened. And I couldn't have been prouder or happier to have a son like you.” Nora smiles. “You have to let me go, Barry.”

“I don't want to.”

“Neither do I…” she says, “but I'll be okay.”

* * *

 

They returned to the estate; despite the events wrought by Slade, it was no worse for wear. Sara could feel Nyssa at her heels.

Nyssa insisted upon sleeping on the pull-out couch. Sara had never bothered to furnish any other rooms other than her own and the one reserved for Leonid. And she couldn't… Not on the same bed. Not so soon. Not after she had…

So for now, the pull-out couch would have to do.

But she couldn't sleep. Her tired eyes refused to close, and the thought of sleep taking her terrified her to her core.

She crept out of her room and into the living room on the main floor. Even through the darkness, she could make out Nyssa. She always could. Distinct. As always.

Perhaps she could… Sara reached for the covers draped over the empty side of the bed.

“Sara…”

“I know,” she whispered, as though the darkness necessitated silence.

“I only need a little time.”

“I know,” she said again. “I don't expect for us to go back to the way we were overnight. It's just that…”

“I've missed you, too.”

Sara slumped down, her back leaning against the edge of the bed where Nyssa had been sleeping. She sat in silence as the tears began to silently drip from her eyes. _Oh God, what have I done?_ She shook ever so slightly. Trembled in the dark silence. She held her hand to her brow. Hold it all in. Just hold it in. Come on. _Oh God. Oh god oh god oh god._

Nyssa remained silent while Sara steadied herself with several deep, reaching breaths.

She stumbled, nearly, as she shifted, preparing to move back to her room.

“Stay,” Nyssa breathed, shattering the silence.

Sara attempted to mask the sound of tears in her voice. “It's okay. I don't want to push you to anything you don't want to do.”

“Then, stay,” she said again, and she lifted herself off from the bed before folding it back into the couch.

She held Sara as they settled back down. Maybe they couldn't do the bed, but at least they could do this. It would have to be enough. For now. She raised a brow when she heard Sara chuckle lightly against her shoulder.

“What is it?”

“It's just that I haven't been able to cry in a long time.”

* * *

 

Leonid and Nyssa each grasped one side of the crate as they carefully climbed the stairs of the clocktower. There would be hell to pay if they dropped the equipment. Felicity would have both their heads.

“They're starting to call you the Arrow,” he said. Small talk. Wonderful.

“An inadequate title. Make them stop.”

“That's not how this works.”

“I do not require a 'nickname.'”

“They are superfluous,” he agreed. “But sometimes it can't be helped.”

By the time they reached the top, the rest of the team had already assembled, attempting to piece together wires at Felicity's direction.

“Our very own watchtower,” Laurel said. “The Canary Lair is born.”

“Yeah, no, not calling it that. Canaries don't have lairs. They have nests. And roosts. It just doesn't make sense. Like, if _Nyssa_ had some kind of underground base, I wouldn't call it the Arrow Cave.”

“Why not?”

“Because arrows are inanimate and don't live in caves.”

“What would you call it then?”

“The Quiver.”

“That's… actually better.”

“And _this_ , my friends, will be called the Roost.”

She didn't tell them that a friend of hers had been the one to come up with the name. They probably wouldn't be all that happy that she had been occasionally confiding in an old MIT classmate from Central City. Nothing important. And always in vague, reaching hypothetical phrases.

“What do you think?” Thea said, approaching Nyssa. “We won't be able to divert as much power, but it's nice.”

“Superior radio and satellite reception. You are offered a superior view of the city as well. I believe it will make a more than adequate base of operations for your team.”

“It's your team, as well. After everything, I'd like to say you're one of us.”

“One of you?”

“A family, Nyssa. If you'll have us. I know we aren't the League, but…”

“Thank you.”

So this was a life outside of the League.

* * *

 

Sara sighed as she surveyed the party, smiling at her father who had been caught between the Chief of Police and a benefactor. A joint police department benefit. A good idea in theory, but in practice… Sara hated these events. She'd rather be out on the streets.

But ever since Markov…

She hadn't even appointed a new VP.

At least she had managed to drag Nyssa along. Not that it had been all that difficult. Ever since leaving the League, Nyssa hadn't spent all that much time outside of the estate or clocktower. She had even kept an entire identity grown and prepared for such an occasion: enter the private security mogul.

God, she was stunning in that dress.

The redhead approached her from her right.”

“Kate Kane,” Sara acknowledged. “I didn't think this was your sort of scene.”

“My step-mom insisted. She said, and I quote, if you're going to play around with the family fortune, you may as well be useful. As it turns out, I had business in Starling anyway.” Kate raised her glass as she flashed her teeth. “I guess you could say the stars aligned.”

“Play humble all you like, but I know you're behind the insane amounts of money funneling into the GCPD, MPD, _and_ SCPD. To be honest, my dad can't stop gushing about you.”

“Looks like I've been caught. You'll have to keep quiet about it though. I don't really like the attention.”

“Then why come at all?”

“I did tell something of the truth earlier. My step-mom insisted.” Kate smirked. “That and I heard you would be here.”

“Me?”

“You've been a real driving force behind Sionis Industries, but up until recently, you've been playing the part of mysterious recluse well. Let's just say I wanted to meet the girl behind the mask.”

“Something tells me I should be flattered.”

“You should be. You're not the only mysteriousrecluse, you know. You're just the only one who's caught my attention. Sure, Thomas Wayne can be an interesting guy, but he's really not my type.”

Nyssa growled under her breath when she caught sight of the redhead standing precariously close to Sara. She glided over, shoving aside more than a few drooling bachelors.

“Sara, your drink.” Nyssa narrowed her eyes. “Who is this?”

Kate stopped her own eyes from widening. Nyssa. Daughter of Ra's al Ghul. Heir to the Demon. Talk about a fish out of water. Starling certainly had been busy. Almost as busy as Gotham.

“Meet Kate Kane. From Gotham.”

“Kate Kane from Gotham. You carry yourself like a soldier,” Nyssa said (Sara rolled her eyes)

“Uh yeah. Old habits die hard,” Kate replied, and Sara swore she saw her blush a little.

Nyssa, for her part, hadn't noticed a thing. Nyssa. Always of a singular focus. She wrapped her arm around Sara's waist, allowing her hand to momentarily dip lower.

“Then I trust you have been treating Sara well in my absence.” Her words dripped with terrifying implication.

“So you two…” Kate gestured between the women. “ _The two of you_ are doing the tango? Well, that's interesting. I seem to have made a slight mistake.”

“Yes. You have.”

“I hope I haven't offended. I wouldn't want to get on the bad side of a woman as beautiful as yourself,” Kate Kane said, and it was Sara's turn to narrow her eyes. The leggy redhead continued; “Women like you few and far between. Where are you from, anyway?”

“She's from Tibet,” said Sara. She turned to kiss Nyssa hard on the lips, much to Kate's amusement. “I think it's time to go home.”

“I am not opposed,” Nyssa whispered back, a little dumbstruck.

Sara turned back to Kate; “Sorry but it's getting a little late for us. If it helps, the blonde officer over there seems to have been staring at your legs all night.”

“She has, hasn't she?” Kate said before cutting her way through the crowd, no nonsense and with purpose. She had already had her fun with this dynamic duo; it had been amusing to rattle both the vigilante and the assassin.

Sara and Nyssa took the opportunity to make their way towards the door.

“Aren't you helpful,” Nyssa said.

“Well, I wasn't being altogether altruistic. The moment you walked over, she couldn't stop looking down at your cleavage.”

“She was flirting with me,” Nyssa said slowly. “You were jealous.”

“You were jealous, too,” Sara hufffed.

* * *

 

Thea pulled back on the bowstring, lining up the sights with the small quarter-sized targets Nyssa had set up in the sewers beneath the clocktower. The makeshift range was dark and damp. Nyssa had called it perfect. Her arms trembled beneath the weight of the recurve.

“Steady your breath,” Nyssa said. “Do not anticipate the shot.”

Thea released the air in her lungs before loosing the arrow. Shit. Didn't do any good. Still missed the mark. Even her grouping was off.

“You are overthinking this. You must trust your instincts. Agan.”

The arrow veered far to the left. She had yet to hit a single target.

“Your form is not at fault here. Put down the bow.”

“I can do this,” Thea said, but Nyssa had already begun to knock her off her feet.

Leonid looked on and growled, stopping only at Nyssa's pointed glare.

Thea looked up at her teacher. “What the hell?”

“Fight back.”

She pushed her down once more with the sole of her boot, keeping Thea from getting up. Leonid's lips pulled back and his brow squeezed together.

“Get up,” Nyssa said.

It didn't take much for Nyssa to bring Thea back down.

“What are you afraid of?”

“Nothing,” Thea insisted.

Nyssa swept Thea off her feet yet again, sending the girl flying onto her back. Thea groaned, the pain reverberating up her spine.

“ _What are you afraid of?_ ”

Something snapped.

Thea lurched forward, swinging with rage and without thought, her knuckles grazing against a dodging and weaving Nyssa.

“What do you think I'm afraid of?” Thea ground out. “My dad died off the coast of who-knows-where.. My dead mom is practically responsible for a genocide. My dead brother came back from the dead, but now he's suddenly a murdering maniac. I looked up to him. He was my _hero_.”

“And my father is a near-immortal who has killed more people than you could ever dream of meeting in a single lifetime.” Nyssa grabbed the young girl, settling her down. She glanced at Leonid who finally acquiesced, turning around back towards the Roost. “You are not your family. You are yourself.”

“What happened to him?” Thea said, quietly.

“Most simply, he fell victim to the drug,” Nyssa replied. “The man I knew and the man he became are two very different individuals. Al Sa'him was… Strong-willed. Always attempting to do right, to a fault even. He advocated for those who could not speak, and I have never known him to back away from overwhelming odds. He was lucky my father appreciates bold men.

“I have always had my own disagreements with Al Sa'him, but I have always known him to be an honorable man. Now he is no longer Al Sa'him and he is no longer Oliver Queen either. He is an extension of the Terminator. Deathstroke. Slade Wilson. Know him by these names and remember your brother as the man he once was.”

“So all that time you knew my brother was alive?”

“It was not my secret to tell.” She handed Thea the bow. “Try again.”

She fired off three arrows quickly in succession. The grouping remained tight within the quarter-sized target.

Nyssa shrugged; “Your mind was too tired to get in the way of your body. Trust in yourself, Thea. You know what you are doing, more than you know.”

* * *

 

The motorcycle's engine rumbled beneath them.

The Canary and Nyssa. Back on the streets. Patrolling.

“Without Slade funding Mirakuru-fueled attacks, it's been quiet” Sara said. “Whoever thought Starling would turn out to be safer than Central City?”

“Harrison Wells and his little experiment did not help.” Nyssa smirked into Sara's back. “And I do believe you to be moderately more competent than their Citizen Cold.”

“Only moderately more?”

“Maybe if you allowed me to ride my own vehicle, I would change my opinion.”

“You know you like riding the backseat.”

Nyssa lifted her head into the crook of Sara's neck, running her lips across the cool, numb skin. Sara's knuckles grew white as it gripped the handles, and her breathing began to stutter. Nyssa felt the bike swerve ever so slightly.

“If you keep that up, we might crash.”

“You were right. I do enjoy this.”

“Well now you're being cheeky,” Sara said, her voice still unsteady. She revved, and the bike hurtled down the road towards the liquor store in the Glades' south end. Sin had passed on a tip earlier. “Ready for some action?”

“Always.”

Nyssa's arrow caught the lookout by surprise, the bolo wrapping around his knees and sending his chin careening towards the concrete. Sara rolled in through the door, cursing as the robbers began to fire in her general direction.

Good thing lowlife criminals also tend to be bad shots. Nyssa on the other hand, was not. An arrow caught one by the hand. His pistol fell to the ground.

“You sure know how to treat a girl,” Sara said kicking the other thugs square in the head.

She kissed Nyssa on the cheek before sending the last of them into counter. Their heads snapped back against the plastic and they groaned as they fell unconscious. The cashier breathed a sigh of relief. Time to sit down. The adrenaline rushed out of his system.

“Guys?” Felicity's voice interrupted the action. “I know you two are busy being nauseating, but it looks like Red Star and Speedy need your help over in Pennytown.”

“We'll be there in a sec. We're just wrapping up here.”

“Are the codenames truly necessary?” Nyssa growled as she applied zipties around wrists.

“You just don't want her to call you Arrow. You better think of something before she beats you to the punch. I've been thinking of an upgrade myself. Black Canary?”

“No.”

Sara turned around. “No?”

“You've become a beacon of hope.” She picked a crushed toy from the ground before tossing it towards Sara. An action figure. The Canary. “If you insist upon a codename, it should reflect upon who you truly are.”

Sara, speechless followed Nyssa out the door. The motorcycle revved. Nyssa had already flicked the kickstand back up.

“I believe it is your turn to ride in the back,” she said to Sara. “To Pennytown, yes?”

* * *

 

Quentin stared at the woman sitting across from him on his couch. She had arrived fifteen minutes earlier. Apparently Sara had gotten stuck in traffic. Damn the traffic.”

“Sara should be here in a moment,” Nyssa said.

He nodded and made an attempt at a reply. Only a nonsensical noise emerged from his tongue. The cheap clock on the wall continued to click. Loud. He'd have to get a new clock. Maybe digital. Digital clocks don't tick and they aren't so damn loud. He cleared his throat.

“How do you like your whiskey?”

“Neat. Perhaps with a splash of water.”

“Good girl.”

Finally something to do. He grabbed two glasses before pouring the drink, taking his time with the setup. The glasses clinked against the surface of the table.

The fumes of the first sip burned his throat.

“So you and my daughter.”

“Yes.”

Okay. That didn't go well. What did he expect? Vigorous small talk on the topic of his _youngest daughter_?

Agonizing minutes passed before he tried again:

“What is it you do?”

“Private military contracting.”

Quentin frowned. “You're a mercenary.”

“A crude term, but yes.”

“And do you also jump across roofs?”

“I keep her safe. She keeps me safe as well.” Nyssa smiled for the first time that night. She smiles when she talks about her. That's good. “I admit that I am not quite the philanthropist your daughter is.”

“I see.”

He knew she lied. His contacts at A.R.G.U.S. had told him as much. They had told him she was a hitman, at least. Or hitwoman. A criminal on their watch list. For what it's worth, they had said, she doesn't kill _without reason_.

As though that was supposed to make him feel better.

But she smiles when she talks about her.

And she hasn't cheated on her with her sister. Or drag her onto a boat that would eventually sink in the North China Sea.

Talk about standards.

Sara knocked the door before stepping into the house. Quentin and Nyssa both snapped their heads towards the sound, the same relieved expression mirrored across both their faces: _oh thank god you're here_.

* * *

 

Nyssa glanced at Sara from across the basement of the estate, trying not to stare as Sara ascended up the salmon ladder, her core muscles flexing. She grunted as she descended to the ground, and then again when she brought the sledgehammer down against the tire.

“You are worried about my father,” she said clearing my throat.

“I just wonder if we should be keeping a lower profile.”

“My father sent me here. He knows where I am, but he does not know everything. When he comes, we will be ready.” She sighed. “For now, I must posture at being weak.”

“Because being with me makes you weak?” Sara said, laughing.

“Because he is still ignorantly blind to the notion that you make me strong.”

Sara grabbed a towel, wiping at her sweat. She walked over to where Nyssa had chosen to sit. “You say such sweet things.”

Nyssa ran her thumb against Sara's bare stomach, moving up towards her chest. Towards the scar. She traced the raised flesh with the pad of her thumb, and she closed her eyes, the image of her father spearing Sara through with his sword spasming through her mind.

“ _I release you_ ,” Nyssa whispered.

“Hm?”

“That's what you said when…”

Sara pushed a strand of hair behind Nyssa's ear. “Hey. Look at me. I'm right here. I'm alive.”

“I know.” She kissed Sara as though she were attempting to reassure herself. “What did you mean?”

“I was dying. I didn't want you to be bound to me. I didn't want my death to hang over you.” She whispered to Nyssa, playing with the hem of her shirt. “I thought if I could just kill him, I'd be able to undo everything that happened. And if I died, he wouldn't be so worried about you anymore. It's the only decision I don't regret. It's the only one I wouldn't hesitate to make again.”

“You won't have to. I'll kill him first.”

Nyssa kissed Sara again, pressing their bodies close together. Sara moaned, quietly and lightly. She moaned despite herself. Nyssa gasped. She yearned to move her hands farther south towards…

“Take me to bed,” she said against her lips.

“I thought you wanted to wait.”

“And we have. Take me to bed, Taeera al Asfar.”

* * *

 

She heard the glass shatter, but by the time she turned to meet her attacker, she was already too late. The sword ran through her chest, nicking her left lung. She fell to the hardwood. Gasped. Felt her own warm blood cling to her cheek.

She dug her nails into the floor as she dragged herself forward.

Ignored the pain as she slid.

Blood smeared across the screen.

Sara. I have to call Sara. Someone. Anyone. This can't be the end. This can't be the end I won't let this be the end oh god this isn't a dream this is real I'm going to die I'm actually going to die.

Her heart began to pump faster in fear, and her blood spilled faster from her chest.

Thea Queen thought of her brother as she felt herself die.


	22. Fortress of Solitude

_EDITORIAL: Terror Beneath LexCorp: Luthor's Secret Revealed_

**by Lois Lane**

**The Daily Planet, Dec. 23, 2015, 12 p.m.**

METROPOLIS – The Island of Doctor Moreau can no longer be counted as a work of fiction. It lives on, in the flesh, beneath our feet, and for years, the citizens of Metropolis have carried on, oblivious to the countless terrifying experiments Lex Luthor has conducted.

Three years ago, Mr. Luthor's conglomerate obtained a federal grant in the field of genetics. It's easy to take this story at face value, to believe that these funds originate with the Pentagon. They do not. The money originates with CADMUS, a seemingly inconsequential arm of the FDA. Any questions regarding possible ties between LexCorp and CADMUS, both Mr. Luthor and the FDA have maintained a strict code of silence.

Investigations into LexCorp's properties revealed the true nature of this mysterious relationship. Lex Luthor can deny the truth all he likes, but I have seen what he has hidden: hidden laboratories revealed a wealth of live genetic experiments. People. Human beings held against their will. DNA manipulation. Lex Luthor is Frankenstein come to life.

But we only scrape the surface of Luthor's machinations. In the deepest reaches of his complex, Luthor holds a man hostage. Black hair. Blue eyes. He almost seems human. He reached out to me, against the glass walls of his prison, and he radiated with an unadulterated kindness in his eyes. Despite everything that had been done to him, he remained incorruptible. As though he still, somehow, held the capacity for hope.

I was drawn to him.

He remains shackled, a prisoner of mankind, but I have seen what he can be capable of, and he is so much more. A god amongst men. He is a Superman. I was forced to leave him behind, but I am a reporter, and I will not rest until he is finally allowed to see the light of day.

Harrison Wells of Central City revealed the genetic potential of human beings, recklessly unleashing his experiment into the public. We must learn from our mistakes. We must hold Luthor responsible.

[ _Lois. You know we can't publish this; Luthor will have our heads. Write something less preposterous next time, or I'll have you writing human interest pieces for the rest of your career. - Perry]_


	23. Long Day's Journey into Darkest Night

OVERTURE

03:00, 02 November 2015, Nanda Parbat

Nyssa stood tall, her wrists sore and raw. She stared up at her father, and she steeled her gaze. Ever defiant. Beside him stood a woman garbed in studded League attire. Hair pulled back tight. A thick coat around her shoulders. Beside him stood Sara Lance.

Reborn completely and wholly as Taeera al Asfar.

Heir to the Demon.

“You're fealty continues to impress me, Taeera al Asfar,” her father said. “You truly are Wareeth al Ghul. And yet my daughter still does not approve of my choice. Fortunately, what I require from you is not your approval. I will remember you as the warrior you once were, and not as the shell that stands before me.”

“All my life I've lived in fear of you. But now as I stand before you ready to leave this earth, I want you to know: I am not afraid.”

Ra's al Ghul turned to Taeera al Asfar, ignoring the words of his daughter. “Do what needs to be done and take with it the satisfaction that your reign will be unchallenged.”

Sarab forced Nyssa to her knees. She met her beloved's eyes.

Taeera al Asfar lifted her blade.

* * *

 

ACT ONE

22:46, 01 September 2015, Starling City

“You allowed her to come to _harm_.”

He roared as he leapt towards her, swinging Slade's swords in unadulterated fury. Sara parried each blow, and it was almost as though they were making music. It was almost as though they were dancing.

“She's her own woman, Ollie.” Sara gritted her teeth. “She's not some sort of doll we can keep locked up in cage.”

“ _She's going to die_.”

Sara smashed her bo against Oliver's swords with all her might. “ _I know._ ”

Their weapons fell to their sides. Thea was going to die. Thea who didn't deserve to die. Thea who had somehow been sucked into the quagmire that was the Gambit and Lian Yu. The quagmire that was Oliver Queen and Sara Lance. Thea who was supposed to remain pure.

“I don't know how to save her,” Sara whispered. “I'm so sorry, Ollie. I'm sorry.”

“I may know a way. But we – _you_ – have to be willing to do anything. Everything.”

“Ollie, that's not possible.”

“Ask your girlfriend. Nanda Parbat holds old magic. There are waters in Nanda Parbat. They've permitted Ra's to live for over a hundred years.And in rare instances, told in legend, those waters have been used to restore the dead to life. Ra's will allow you to use the waters.”

“Why in the world would he do that?”

“Because I know how he thinks. You survived his sword, and he wants you to be the next Ra's al Ghul. That's why he orchestrated all of this. I imagine he's on his way now to make his offer.” Oliver might have grimaced behind his mask. “Like I said, we can save Thea, but there will be prices to pay.”

“Then we'll pay them.”

 

17:00, 03 September 2015, Nanda Parbat

“ _In this day of resurrection, come forth and rise. Rise, and come to prayer._ ”

Sara, hand over hand, put slack into the line, and she watched as the platform holding Thea lowered into Ra's al Ghul's Lazarus Pit. She became submerged, and the waters bubbled and gurgled and growled with the pain of every lost soul.

She almost believed that it had all been for naught. That this was the end.

She watched as Leonid's brow furrowed. He did not believe in the pits, but he could not believe that Thea would die either.

It had been so long since the day he had enlisted with the bratva, pledging himself to Anatoly and again, later, to the American Sara Lance. He knew, from the start, that he would one day stand over dying friends, that he might be one the one to perish. He did not thing he would stand over the body of a young girl such as Thea Queen.

She leapt from the waters, snarling with fury and rage.

With bloodlust. Screaming and yelling and screaming. Sara grabbed hold of her protege, grimacing as the priestess rendered her unconscious and inert.

When Thea Queen woke, she woke alone, in a room she could not remember, in clothes she could not recall.

A man, Ra's al Ghul, entered. He looked on at her with an old wizened gaze; “You are just a girl,” he whispered. “You feel a rage within you, do you not? But we cannot attribute this rage to the pit alone. No. The rage runs deep within your veins; it is in your blood.”

“What happened? Who the hell are you?”

“Your savior. And family friend.” Ra's al Ghul allowed a smile to touch his face. “I knew your brother. And your father.”

“What are you talking about? My dad died on the Gambit.”

“You misunderstand. I did not know Robert Queen. I knew the Magician. His name was Al Sah'er,'' Ra's al Ghul said. “Your name is Thea Merlyn.”

Later, she allowed a large, vaguely familiar Russian man guide her towards the helicopter, and she allowed herself to wonder why Sara Lance had chosen to remain in this strange mountain city. But above all, she could not shake the Demon's words from her mind.

I knew your brother. And your father.

His name was Al Sah'er

Your name is Thea Merlyn.

* * *

 

ACT TWO

01:00, 06 September 2015, Nanda Parbat

“I've fulfilled my end of our arrangement,” Ra's al Ghul had said, and Sara had watched the Starling-bound helicopter take to the air. “I suggest you begin to make peace with yours.”

And so she grabbed the chains, her fists tight around the metal. She braced herself for what was to come. She braced herself for her coming transformation.

“Tell me. Do you still love my daughter?”

She did not answer. She would not answer. She would not speak her beloved's name. Not here and not for _him_.

“From the moment I laid my eyes upon you, I knew that the Canary was bold. You have helped to build an empire. You have fought under the name of justice. You stood strong when my own daughter faltered.”

She tried not to grimace at the idea that this was the man who had raised Nyssa The man who had deigned to call himself her father, her blood, her family. She thought of Nyssa, the woman who was stronger than her father knew.

“But vestiges of your old identity still remain,” the Demon said. “Sara Lance must be extinguished from memory.”

Ra's al Ghul continued to circle her; he paced as though her were a vulture waiting to sink its beak into a rotting strip of carcass. He stopped only to pick up the brand, and he held it to the coals, the fire.

“The word 'assassin' has fallen victim to many abuses of language, its real meaning hidden beneath a sediment of lies and falsehoods. In truth, 'assassin' comes from _hashishiya_ , which means 'those who stand apart from society.' Now every man and woman in here have renounced their past life and forfeited their identity in the name of something new. It is a cleansing only achieved by fire. Embrace the pain for it is your soul finally being unburdened.” He held the red-iron to her back, and the smell of her own burning skin wafted into her nose. “Sara Lance is dead, eventually to be reborn as Ra's al Ghul. And for now, only the Canary, Taeera al Asfar, shall remain.”

_Sara Lance is alive only in the past. She is forgotten._

_Sara Lance is alive only in the past. She is forgotten._

_Sara Lance is alive only in the past. She is forgotten._

_You are Taeera al Asfar._

 

20:18, 27 October 2015, Starling City

With Starling's skyline at her back, Taeera al Asfar faced her men. “Tonight,” she said, “Nyssa al Ghul faces justice for her betrayal.”

She found Laurel in her bed, asleep. Unaware. She approached her, and Laurel did not even stir. This would be easy. Perhaps too easy. Nonetheless, she would need to draw _her_ out, and Taeera al Asfar would do whatever was required of her. She would do whatever was necessary.

She disappeared with Laurel over her shoulder, into the night.

She dialed the phone. The Roost. They would all be listening. Perfect.

“Sara?” Felicity's voice was tentative over the line.

“First, let me assure you that no harm will come to Laurel if you do exactly as I say.”

“What are you talking about?” Felicity became frantic as she glanced over at Thea and Leonid, who appeared as equally bewildered. Nyssa only appeared… reserved. “What's going on?”

“Bring Nyssa to the warehouse at Fullerton and Halsted, and I'll let her go.”

“She's your _sister_ ,” Felicity insisted. “Sara…”

“ _Sara Lance_ is alive only in the past. She is forgotten.”

“She's your sister,” Felicity said again.

“You have thirty minutes.”

The dialtone echoed through the Roost. She looked to her colleagues. To Nyssa. To Leonid. “What do we do?”

But Nyssa was already gone, Thea at her heels.

“What are you doing?” Thea said. “No, you don't get to go, not you. I can't lose you, too.”

Nyssa grimaced as the words left her mouth. “Now that Sara has ascended to her position as heir to the Demon, she will come for me, with as many men as it takes to see me dead.”

“She wouldn't. She _loves_ you.”

“And she loved her sister. More than anything. Thea, I was marked for death the moment she accepted my father's offer. She is not herself. The League is remarkably practiced in the art of manipulation. I fear that Sara Lance is no more. I fear that she is now nothing but a memory. I fear that all that remains is the beast my father has created.”

“Sara is stronger than that,” Thea insisted. “You know she is.”

“I am not here to debate.”

“There has to be another way. How can you be so calm?”

“ _Because it pains me to think what Sara has become,_ ” she said, and without another word she left her student behind, making her way to where she knew her beloved would be waiting.

She found Sara standing beside Sarab, Laurel Lance bound and within the grip of a League Assassin. They stood under the cover of darkness.

She looked into the eyes of her beloved and she saw only Taeera al Asfar.

“You're free to go,” Taeera al Asfar said to a wide-eyed Laurel.

Laurel stumbled forward, turning only to find assassins binding Nyssa at the wrists. They pulled her away.

“Kneel before the Heir to the Demon,” Sarab said.

“I kneel before no one.”

He might have forced her down to her knees regardless, but he did not get the chance. Thea loosed arrows towards the assassins, quickly dispatching those who had grabbed Nyssa by the arms. Nyssa made no move; she only looked into the eyes of her beloved, watching as Thea and Leonid descended from the rafters.

She stood precariously still as the fought, once friends exchanging near deadly blows. Leonid hesitated. Taeera al Asfar did not.

But neither did Thea.

Her arrow found its home within Sara's arm, stopping her short of what might have been Leonid's death.

“Get away from him,” she snarled, “or the next one goes through your eye.”

Taeera al Asfar snapped the shaft of the arrow, and she looked to Nyssa who still had yet to move even an inch from where she stood.

Nyssa did not waver as she spoke. “You will allow me to go,” she said to Thea. “This is my choice, and I see that it is necessary.”

With a nod, Taeera al Asfar took Nyssa away.

* * *

 

ACT THREE

08:46, 03 November 2015, Starling City

Team Canary. Thea Queen. Felicity Smoak. Laurel Lance. Leonid Kovar. They stood alone in the Roost, each filled with a measure of uncertainty.

Beheaded.

Without that essential piece that allowed them to be whole. They braced themselves as they watched the masked man enter the Roost. The man they had once known as Oliver Queen. The man now known as Deathstroke. Thea felt the muscles in her neck strain. Robert. Moira. Sara. _Malcolm._

Oliver.

Her brother.

_Why did this keep happening?_

“This won't be easy for all of you to believe,” he said through the mask.

“You _will_ get to the point,” Leonid said, and Thea could see that the veins in his temple had begun to bulge. “Why are you here.”

“Sara. Her allegiance with the League is a charade.”

“Why would you even begin to play with our emotions like that?” Felicity said. She had once wondered if she could love this man. But she could no longer see his face. She could no longer see his eyes.

“This plan,” Deathstroke said, “was born the moment Sara realized that he had to give herself over to Ra's in order to save Thea.”

Leonid brought his fist against the table. “And instead of sharing this plan with us, he trusted you--”

“--The man who cast aside and abandoned everything he loved,” Laurel continued. “My sister. _Your_ sister.” She paused. “Me.”

“I am a much better actor than any of you are. No offense, but none of you are any good. The circle of trust had to be as small as possible.”

Thea approached her brother, speaking for the first time he had entered the room. “What about Nyssa? How do you explain that? The Sara I know would never--”

“--You don't know Sara like I do. _None of you_ have gone through the same trials that we have. But fine. Don't believe me. I suspected that you might not. Which is why I've brought along someone Sara unconditionally trusts.”

A woman approached them from behind. Leonid's eyes widened.

“My name is Tatsu Yamashiro, and your city is in great danger.”

 

03:07, 08 November 2015, Nanda Parbat

Ra's al Ghul grabbed Taeera al Asfar by the arm, halting the deadly swing of the blade. “I see now you do not require a culling to solidify your reign,” he said. “You have broken your rival, Taeera al Asfar, something I wasn't able to do as heir. Spill?ng her blood now would only serve as gluttony.” Ra's al Ghul approached is daughter, his once heir, commanding her to rise. “And perhaps her blood could be of another purpose. As a means to unite our families. This should please you, Nyssa. I will allow you to be betrothed to your beloved.”

“As far as I'm concerned, you have killed my beloved twice over.” Nyssa rankled against her chains. “I would rather die than become the betrothed of your _sick_ bastardization of the woman I love.”

“Your wishes were no longer my concern from the moment you became weak and unworthy.” He grabbed her by the throat. “So you will marry Taeera al Asfar, and you will do so because _I_ decree it. You will become the bride of the Demon.”

“Daughter? And to think I once wore that title with pride.”

“Perhaps 'mother' will suit you better.” Ra's al Ghul smiled calmly. “After your betrothal to Taeera al Asfar, you will extend my lineage by having a child. I am certain the two of you can select a suitable concubine. We have recently bolstered our ranks after all.”

“If you think I will bear--”

“ _Yes_.” He had begun to lose his patience. “I do. And you will have no more say in it than your mother was given.”

He did not afford her another glance as he left the chamber, leaving only strict instructions to the assassins who held his daughter in place, her keepers.

Taeera al Asfar stood beside her, expressionless and strange.

She did not see her again until their wedding day.

Taeera al Asfar wore a warrior's dress, practical yet elegant. Bathed beneath the warm lights of Nanda Parbat, she was beautiful. Breathtaking. After everything, this was not how she had imagined this day. She stepped towards her beloved and found her place by her side.

Ra's al Ghul regarded them before speaking. “When I was in Odessa, tending to some affairs, I crossed paths with a woman. She was breathtaking in both visage and fortitude. Her name was Amina Raatko. I had taken other lovers before but she was different. She had a wit and a fire about her that I found myself I could not live without. So she became my concubine and the mother of my child.” He smiled gesturing for the priestess to come forth. “You should count yourself lucky that you have have… a spitfire of your own, my daughter, and that I have _allowed_ you to live to see your wedding day.”

“Ther is no vow more sacred,” the priestess said, “nor covenant more holy than the one between the betrothed. With this ceremony, your souls are bound together. Forever joined. You will never be free. You will always be held captive by your love for each other. And for this shared life, we offer blessings. The union is sealed.”

* * *

 

ACT FOUR

05:20, 03 September 2015, Starling City

“What do you think?”

Sara gazed out into her city from the Roost, sighing as she felt Nyssa's arms wrap around her waist from behind.

“The waters change a person,” Nyssa said, “in the soul. Even if this worked, the Thea that returns may not be the one we lost. My father has used the pits for years, and look at him now. He has gone mad.”

“But if there's a chance…”

“There is still much we do not know about the pits,” Nyssa agreed, “and Thea has not yet perished. She will retain a strand of her soul, and it may be possible for her to build from that point forward. The pits affect every person in a different manner, but it may be years before she regains a semblance of her humanity.”

“I still say we do it.”

“Then it must be done quickly, before she dies. Once her heart ceases to beat, her soul will most certainly be lost to the pit.” Nyssa squeezed her beloved tighter to her breast. “But I cannot lie and say that I am not more concerned for you and my father's machinations.”

“He wants me to become the next Ra's al Ghul.”

“It is concerning.”

“It's your birthright. The title belongs to you.”

“The title means little to me. You have taught me so much, Taeera al Asfar. If the League were fall into my hands, I would disband it.”

“Then that's what I'll do, too.”

“That is not the concern here,” said Nyssa. “He will attempt to mold you and shape you. You will have to endure his trials. You will have to bring death upon your home, to Starling. You will have to cull all those who may lay claim to the title.”

Sara turned to face Nyssa. “He'll want me to kill you.”

“Yes.”

“I won't do it.”

“This is our chance, Sara, to strike at my father once and for all, from within when he least expects it. If it comes down to it, long before you are forced to destroy this city, those who follow me will follow you. I have already decreed it. But in order for us to succeed, my father must have unconditional and absolute trust in you.”

“You're not listening. _I won't do it_.” Sara stared hard into Nyssa's eyes. “I've spent so long hopelessly attempting to choose between Option A and Option B. Well now it's time to find the third option, because I _will not_ let you die.”

* * *

 

PRESENT DAY

21:00, 18 February 2016, Gotham City

Kate Kane adjusts her red wig the faux locks flowing over her shoulders. They arrive one by one, anxiously examining their surroundings.

Leonard Snart aka Citizen Cold.

Thomas Elliot Wayne Jr. aka the Owl.

Alex DeWitt aka Torchbearer.

And Constantine. Known as Constantine. Just Constantine.

“As I'm sure most of you already know,” she says, “there is a war coming. Arthur Curry of Mercy Coast Security Group and Diana Prince of Troy International are at each other's throats, and whatever their reasons might be, they're both willing to see millions killed in the process. They've been operating in the shadows for years, and their plans are finally coming to fruition.”

“You think we can stop this,” the Owl says, and his voice is like coarse grit sandpaper.

“Yeah, I'm out,” says Cold. “This isn't really my kind of gig.

Alex DeWitt says nothing. Constantine _laughs_ to himself, lighting yet another cigarette, the ashes glowing as he inhales.

“This is serious,” Kate says. “They want to start a world war. If we let that happen, it'll be Armageddon.”

The Owl glares sharply from behind his mask of silver; “You and the DEO want a team made up of the best _heroes_ this country has to offer.”

“The DEO--”

“--I'm not stupid, Bats. If it weren't for them, you wouldn't have asked this fraud to come here,” the Owl says, pointing at Cold, “unless the DEO had you by the figurative nuts. Truth is, you and your puppetmaster must be grasping at straws. You wouldn't summon me unless you were desperate. We're family, after all, and you _know_ what I do to family.” He sneers, and it's disgusting. “Here's the real question that needs answering: if you're trying to recruit so-called heroes, where the hell is the Canary?”

Kate clenches her molars. “She's gone.”

With that the Owl leaves, Cold not far behind. DeWitt at least apologizes before she leaves:

“I know what you want me to do,” she says, “but I won't make them become the kind of heroes you need. I'd be sending them to their deaths, and I can't do that. Not anymore.”

When she turns to Constantine, he shrugs. “No, can do, love. But I wouldn't worry your little head over this. There's something bigger afoot here, and it's beyond your comprehension. But believe me, the pieces are already in place, and before you know it, everything will be back to normal. Well, as back to normal as this universe can be, in any case.”

Damn him. Damn Constantine. Damn them all.

Damn Sara for…

She narrows her eyes. Newcomers. More surprises from Agent Chase? Screw them, too.

She recognizes Leonid Kovar and Thea Queen. She's never met the others, but believe you me, their dossiers are more than extensive. Garth. Wally West. Jason Todd.

The Russian man speaks first; “I believe we may be of assistance.”

“No offense, but you're not exactly offering me the crop.” She turns to the figures standing behind him. “You're teens. Kids.”

“No,” Thea says, “we're _titans_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well we're chugging our way through Act III now of the whole story now; boy has this been a ride.
> 
> Sidenote, if you haven't watched the most recent episode of LoT, skip the next part of my note.
> 
> ...Okay. Ready? Because I just wanna say, according to that Nanda Parbat scene, if Talia's still alive she'd be, like, 60+ years old. And I just want to make it known that I feel like I totally called this whole Talia was Heir v1 and Nyssa was post-beta Heir v2.


	24. Mask of Zorro

2012

DET. MONTOYA: All right. For the record, Today's date is April 20. The time is 2:45 p.m., the speaker is Detective Renee Montoya of the Homicide Unit, and also present is Detective Harvey Bullock. The young man being interviewed here this afternoon is Mr. Bruce – would you pronounce and spell your last name for the record, please?

MR. WAYNE: Wayne, W-A-Y-N-E.

DET. MONTOYA: And with that, also, Bruce, before we ask you any questions, you must understand your rights. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in the court of law. You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be provided for you. Do you understand your rights as they have been read to you?

MR. WAYNE: Yes.

DET. MONTOYA: Would you like a lawyer?

MR. WAYNE: Don't need one.

DET. MONTOYA: Okay, then. And you are aware that we will be taping this interview.

MR. WAYNE: Yes.

DET. MONTOYA: All right. Would you spell your first name, please?

MR. WAYNE: You can't spell Bruce?

DET. MONTOYA: For the record, Mr. Wayne.

MR. WAYNE: B-R-U-C-E.

DET. MONTOYA: Do you watch the news, Mr. Wayne? Read newspapers? Anything?

MR. WAYNE: No.

DET. MONTOYA: Well, there's been a number of incidents, and, well, you're a person of interest because your physical description matches.

MR. WAYNE: What did I do?

DET. MONTOYA: Well, at first glance, these crimes appear to be robberies gone wrong. Looks like _someone_ has been mugging couples and killing them. Sound familiar?

MR. WAYNE: The owl! The owl did this. The Mask of Zorro!

DET. MONTOYA: The circumstances are very similar to your own parents' murder.

MR. WAYNE: It's the owl! The owls are haunting me, oh god they're haunting me…

DET. MONTOYA: You've DNA was found at the scene of these crimes. Do you think you can explain how that happened?

MR. WAYNE: He killed them, he really killed them, the owls killed them… We were at the show and then they died the owls killed them… He's haunting me he killed my parents and then he killed my friends and now I'm going to kill him, too… I have to kill him…

DET. MONTOYA: Okay, Mr. Wayne. I'm going to need you to calm down and answer my questions. Can you do that?

DET: BULLOCK: This guy is nuts.

DET. MONTOYA: Shut up, Harvey.

MR. WAYNE: I want my lawyer… I want my lawyer I want my lawyer…

DET: BULLOCK: Well, shit.

MR. WAYNE [ _calmly_ ]: What's going on here? Why are you questioning my client?

DET. MONTOYA: I'm sorry, but I don't understand.

MR. WAYNE: Have you read him his rights? On what grounds are you holding him?

DET. BULLOCK: What the hell? You know what? I hate this town, I really do.

DET. MONTOYA: _Shut up, Harvey._ Let me try something.

DET. BULLOCK: Whatever. Be my guest.

DET. MONTOYA: All right, sir, can I ask who I'm talking to?

MR. WAYNE: Harvey Dent. I believe we've met before, Detective Montoya. It's Renee, right?

DET. MONTOYA: Yes… Yes we have… Mr. Dent. Can you spell your name for the tape, please?

MR. WAYNE: Of course. That would be Harvey Dent. H-A-R-V-E-Y and, um, D-E-N-T. I'm here representing my friend Bruce Wayne.

DET. BULLOCK: Hold on, wasn't Dent mur--

DET. MONTOYA: --Sh; not now, Harvey. [ _re: Bruce_ ] And when was it that you met Mr. Wayne?

MR. WAYNE: At Gotham Academy, of course. We were very close. And after his parents died? We were like brothers. Now will you tell me why you're holding Bruce?

DET. MONTOYA: He's… a person of interest in several crimes. Couples. Usually a man and a woman. Mugged and then murdered. Armed robberies.

MR. WAYNE: I see…

DET. MONTOYA: Mr. Dent. Can you tell us about the owls?

MR. WAYNE: Owls?

DET. MONTOYA: Yes. Bruce mentioned owls. We thought that maybe… _you_ might be able to shed some light on that.

MR. WAYNE [ _quiet_ ]: An owl killed me…

DET. MONTOYA: I'm sorry; I didn't catch that. Could you repeat that?

MR. WAYNE: The owls! I need my coin! We need the coin! We need justice! The coin our coin we'll kill the owl we'll make him pay for what he's done we'll make him pay…


End file.
